A Fourth Wand
by jido96
Summary: "Life is like a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans; you never know what you are going to get." Damian Beckwith (OC) had no idea what life had in store for him when he shared his compartment with the Boy-Who-Lived.
1. Chapter 1

**A FOURTH WAND**

(Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OCs here)

 **CHAPTER 1: DAMIAN BECKWITH**

The Beckwith family was, as far as anyone in the magical community was concerned, a very much normal and common family… and they were right, because they most certainly were. They lived in a reasonably sized house in Nettlebed, Oxfordshire. Nettlebed was an ideal place to raise a Muggle family. It was a small village where everybody seemed to know each other; the kind of place where keeping a secret was not an easy task. That was the main reason why the house of the Beckwith family was set a little far away from the village. After all, they rest of the villagers were Muggles and the Beckwiths had no intention of letting them know about their magical status.

Philip Beckwith was a 33 year-old Muggle-born wizard who used to work in the Ministry of Magic as an Auror before moving to the Committee on Experimental Charms Department. He had dark-brown, short hair and was of average height and weight, just a few inches taller than his wife Diana. Because of his job at the Ministry, Philip usually wore simple, yet formal robes. Philip was placed in Hufflepuff during his youth and probed to be quite a competent student, ultimately becoming Prefect of his House during his fifth year. Time passed, and before he knew it, he found himself being the father of two boys and husband of a lovely wife.

Diana Beckwith was a 32 year-old witch with Muggle parents just like Philip. She was named after the Muggle Princess of Wales, Lady Diana. The woman in question had long, black hair which she wore in a tight ponytail. She usually wore a black dress under a grey fur coat, a little more elegant than her husband because of her place in the Wizengamot, where wizards and witches alike had an image to maintain despite how snotty it felt. Diana, who also used to be a student at Hogwarts and was also an ex-Hufflepuff, met Philip during her sixth year. They became acquaintances, friends, good friends, very good friends, a couple an ultimately a family.

Then there was Edmund Beckwith, the oldest son. Edmund was a skinny boy who inherited his mother's pale skin and black hair, often described as a pompous and somewhat condescending know-it-all who spent all of his time in the library in hopes of achieving perfect grades, which he usually did. He was starting his fourth year in Hogwarts and, unlike his parents, he was sorted into Ravenclaw for his innate intelligence and thirst for knowledge.

Last but not least, Damian Beckwith. He was the little boy of the Beckwith marriage, and he was about to start his very first year at Hogwarts. Damian was as normal as any other eleven year-old wizard: He loved playing Quidditch with his Comet Two Sixty, he loved the sweets and candies from the Sugarplum's Sweets Shop in Diagon Alley, and was more than excited to start learning how to properly perform magic. He had dark brown, messy hair and blue eyes, both of which he inherited from Philip.

Damian was a simple and balanced boy. He wasn't smart like his brother, but he wasn't dumb by any means ("He's just a little distracted" his mother would often said). It wasn't easy for him to learn things like History and Astronomy because he couldn't quite interact with them. Those subjects were more on the theoretical side, and Damian was far more interested in things that he could actually apply in real life, like charms and spells. When something caught his attention, he would practice and practice and practice until he could get it right. That was one of the reasons why he liked Quidditch so much, because the only theoretical knowledge he needed to know were a few simple rules and the rest of the game was all about timing, coordination and flying skills.

Speaking of whom…

'Today's the day.' Damian Beckwith thought with a mix of excitement and anxiousness as he putted on his blue sweat jacket and carefully packed the books that were listed in the Hogwarts letter inside his wooden trunk.

" _A History of Magic_ byBathilda Bagshot, check. _Magical Theory_ byAdalbert Waffling, check. _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ byPhyllida Spore, check. _Magical Drafts and Potions_ byArsenius Jigger, check…"

One by one, he made sure to pack all of his books, as well as his cauldron, robes, globes, winter cloak, telescope set, crystal phials, brass scales and his new owl Venus, a beautiful Barn owl with white and brown feathers. Well, in all honesty, in wasn't a new owl 'per say'. It used to belong to Edmund, who received a new owl this year as a reward for his outstanding grades in all subjects. Damian had always wanted an owl of his own, and once he knew Philip was getting one, he almost immediately claimed Venus for himself.

When all of his belongings were inside his trunk, Damian carefully extracted his wand out of its holster and examined it thoroughly, verifying that it was in excellent shape. The wand was twelve inches long, made out of English oak and with a phoenix feather as the wand core. When he went to Ollivander's to choose his wand (or to have a wand choose him, as Ollivander told him), the wandmaker said something very special to him: _"A wand for good times and bad, this is a friend as loyal as the wizard who deserves it. Wands of English oak demand partners of strength, courage and fidelity. Follow these traits, and this wand will do wonders for you."_

Strength, courage and fidelity… that sounded like a mix of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff traits. Was he going to become a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff? Wizards were often placed in the House of their predecessors, but Edmund was sorted into Ravenclaw despite having Hufflepuff parents, so it could be either way for Damian. Jonathan Beckwith, Damian's uncle and Philip's only brother, was sorted into Gryffindor when he attended Hogwarts. Sadly, he never got the chance to meet him. Jonathan died in a tragically accident when Damian was only a baby.

He wasn't going to be sorted into Ravenclaw, that was for sure. Ravenclaw was for intelligent and creative individuals, and he would be the first to say he wasn't the sharpest wand of the holster. Slytherin was another no-no for him. Not only he wasn't from an ancestral house, but he came from Muggle-born parents, so there was no way he would fit in there.

"Is Damian Beckwith already done packing, sir?"

Damian gasped and spun around. "Gorky, how many times have I told you not to get behind my back like that?"

Gorky was the house-elf of the Beckwith family. Like almost every other house-elf, he wore something that was similar to a pillowcase but with rips for arm- and leg-holes. However, unlike most house-elfs, Gorky's robe (it was anything BUT a robe, but Gorky insisted it was) was fresh and clean to the point of being spotless.

Gorky started working for the Beckwiths when Damian was seven years old. Diana found him crying miserably outside The Fountain of Fair Fortune, a popular pub located in Horizont Alley. Apparently, Gorky was victim of a misunderstanding with his previous masters, the Parkinsons. They gave him a scarf and kicked him out of their house, and because he was the first among his family members to be freed by the Parkinson family, he was devastated. Diana heard his story and felt pity for him. In the end, she decided to give him a place to stay in her house and gave him the chance to become their house-elf. Because the Beckwith's Cottage was small only a reasonable sized home and because there were only four members living in it, the Beckwith family really had no need for a house-elf, but Diana simply couldn't leave him alone. That night, Gorky became the Beckwith's house-elf and swore to serve them dutifully.

The funny thing was that, because there were only a few chores to do, Gorky spent almost all of his time doing the same chores all over again in an attempt to keep his masters pleased. Both Philip and Diana reassured him that there was no need to re-do the same chores again and again, that one time was enough and that he needed to take a break every now and then. Gorky cried for about half an hour that day, praising the Beckwith family for their kindness and bowing to serve them with even more passion than before.

Damian quickly befriended Gorky, something that was hard at first because the elf considered Damian to be his 'master', believing he had to be addressed and treated as one. Fortunately, the bond between them became stronger and less formal over time, with Damian eventually becoming Gorky's favorite. Of course, he still did everything that Philip, Diana and Edmund told him to do without a second thought, but when Damian asked him if he could do something, the house-elf was more than willing to do it.

"Gorky apologizes, sir. Gorky did not mean to scare Damian Beckwith." The house-elf said apologetically while bowing. "Can Damian Beckwith forgive Gorky?"

"Don't worry, Gorky. You just scared me a little, that's all."

"Does Damian Beckwith wants Gorky to punish himself, sir?"

"What? Of course not. You've done nothing wrong."

The house-elf wiped a tear with his long and bony finger. "Damian Beckwith truly is kind. The Beckwith family has always been nice to Gorky. Gorky will always serve the Beckwith family until the day he perishes."

Not wanting to deal with Gorky's overdramatic antics, Damian raised his voice. "Is everyone else ready, Gorky?"

Gorky stopped sniffling and looked at Damian. "Gorky thinks so, sir. Mister Philip is waiting for you in the kitchen. Mistress Diana is already at King's Cross Station with Mister Edmund, sir. They woke up early in the morning to go to Diagon Alley."

"That sounds like Edmund alright." Damian said while rolling his eyes. "I bet a hundred Galeons he dragged Mum over to Diagon Alley first thing in the morning just so he could buy more books that weren't on his list. He's seriously obsessed with his grades. I wonder if… if everyone at Hogwarts is like him." he muttered at the end.

"Is Damian Beckwith feeling alright, sir?" Gorky asked with a worried tone. "Is he feeling sick?"

Damian shook his head. "It's not that, Gorky. I'm just… nervous, I guess. I don't know much about Hogwarts. Do you think I'll like it there? What if everyone's like Edmund? What if I don't make friends?"

Ever since he was a boy, Damian had trouble making friends, mainly because he and his family lived in a place where the majority of the habitants were Muggles. If he accidentally performed or talked about magic, he could get in real trouble with his parents and the Ministry of Magic. The only other wizards he had ever talked to before were either friends/colleagues of his parents or their children, who were around Edmund's age or older. The difference in age and interests between him and them was simply too big. His only true friend so far was Gorky, and even though he cared deeply for the elf, he knew it wasn't the same as having… well, human friends, for lack of a better term.

The voice of Gorky shook him out of his train of thought. "Damian Beckwith has nothing to fear, sir. Gorky is sure Damian Beckwith will find friends in no time. Damian Beckwith is the most kind and friendliest wizard Gorky knows of."

The young wizard felt his cheeks heating up, feeling both flattered and slightly embarrassed by Gorky's words. "Thanks, Gorky."

The house-elf beamed. "Damian Beckwith has nothing to thank Gorky for. Gorky would never lie to him."

Feeling more confident, Damian walked down the stairs with his trunk floating behind him (Gorky used a Levitating Charm) and went to the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it up. Philip, who was enjoying a cup of tea while reading an article about a Boggart experiment from the Daily Prophet, greeted his son with a warm smile. He was wearing a two-piece black suit with a grey tie, his usual attire for when he had to visit Muggle places like King Cross Station in London, for example. Thankfully, because he was raised with Muggle parents and siblings, Philip knew very well what to wear and how to act around Muggles. "Good morning, Damian. Ready for your first year at Hogwarts?"

"I suppose so." Damian said while shrugging his shoulders. "But how are we going to get there? We need to be at… What was the name of that place again?"

"King Cross Station."

"Yeah, King Cross Station in fifteen minutes. Are we going to use Floo powder?"

"Not this time." Philip smirked as he stood up and reached for a rectangular, one meter-long wooden box that was lying on the table. Gesturing his son to come closer, Philip opened the wooden box and showed what was inside.

Damian raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "A piece of rope?"

"This isn't just a piece of rope, Damian. This is a Portkey, an enchanted object used to instantly bring anyone touching it to a specific location. Think of it as a substitute for Apparition."

Now Damian was curious. "Really? And where is it going to take us?"

"To an abandoned house near our destination. The house is protected by lots of charms that keep Muggles from entering it and its location is only known to Aurors and ex-Aurors such as myself, so don't go around telling people about this place or Mr. Fudge will have my head. Now…" Philip pulled out his wand and pointed at Damian's trunk. "Reducio."

Damian's trunk shrunk to the size of a small box of chocolates. Damian grinned at the sight before picking up his toy-sized trunk and putting it inside his pocket. "What about Venus?" Damian asked. "Are you going to shrink her as well?"

"There's no need for that." Philip replied while grabbing the Portkey. "She already knows where Hogwarts is. Muggles aren't used to seeing owls being dragged around inside birdcages, so it's just better if you sent her to Hogwarts right now. The less attention you attract, the better off you'll be."

Nodding, Damian opened the kitchen's window and allowed Venus to be free from her birdcage. "Go to Hogwarts." Damian said. Venus hooted in understanding and joyfully started flying. Once she was out of sight, Damian approached his father, who instructed him to grab the end of the rope with all of his strength.

"Are you ready, Damian?"

"… Yes?"

"Excellent. To the count of three. One… Two… Three!"

SSSSSSWWWWOOOOOOPPPPP

Damian felt like he was being flushed down a toilet as everything became a blurry whirlwind of mixed colors. It felt like being constantly pushed around by a gigantic wave from the ocean, and the only thing Damian could do was to hold on to the rope as if his life depended on it.

Luckily, everything came to an end faster than what he expected. The whole travel took about thirty seconds, although it was hard to tell for someone who had never traveled via Portkey before. Philip casually landed with both feet on the ground while Damian ungraciously landed on his lower back with a loud THUD noise.

"Not bad for the first time, eh?" Philip chuckled as helped his disoriented son to stand up. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Once Damian felt better, he looked at the place where they landed on. It was an old and filthy room with little furniture to display: A dusty wardrobe without doors and a round, broken mirror that only had a few pieces of glass left. "Where are we?"

"London, of course. This building is only five minutes away from King's Cross Station. Now, if you'd only place your trunk on the floor…" Damian did as told. "There we go. Engorgio!" The miniature trunk suddenly grew back to its normal size, much to Damian's amazement.

Father and son walked out of the building and got on their way to King's Cross Station, with Philip carrying Damian's trunk. Meanwhile, Damian took the opportunity to watch anything that he could lay his eyes on. It wasn't his first time in London, but it always amazed him how Muggles could get through life without the use of magic. One of his favorite Muggle inventions was the motorcycle because of how oddly wicked they looked. Before he knew it, he was entering King's Cross Station alongside his father. Upon entering the train station, Damian caught sight of his mother and Edmund who, as expected, was reading a heavy looking book while trying to ignore everyone else except his mother.

Diana greeted her youngest son with a hug. "Good morning, Damy. How's my beloved pumpkin pastry?" she asked while pinching both of Damian's cheeks.

"Stop calling me that, Mum." Damian replied as his cheeks went red, and not exactly because his mother was pinching them. He loathed being called 'pumpkin pastry' by his mother because of how stupid and childish it sounded. If anyone at Hogwarts, ANYONE, found out his mother called him that, he would surely lose the opportunity to make friends and most likely become the target of several pranks.

"Edmund, don't you have anything to say to your brother?" Diana asked with a lecturing tone.

Edmund rolled his eyes and huffed. "Good morning, Damian." He said hastily, not even bothering to look up from his book ( _Extreme Incantations_ by _Violeta Stitch_ ).

"There, that much better. Now Damian, before I show you how to reach the Platform 9 ¾, there's something I'd like to give to you first." Diana unzipped her handbag and pulled out a small leather bag that jingled when Damian grabbed it. "Here's a couple of Sickles so you can buy something on your way to Hogwarts and for Christmas as well. Don't spend it all at once."

"Mother, you are spoiling him." Edmund said in his usual overly-formal dialect.

"I'm not spoiling him, Edmund. I recall doing the same thing for you in your first year."

Edmund had the decency to look embarrassed. "He will most likely spend it on sweets. I used that money to buy books, which I reckon are far more valuable and useful." he argued.

"Reading books and getting high grades is all very well and good." Philip admitted. "But I think students prefer to share candies rather than books, wouldn't you agree?" Edmund decided not to answer; instead he closed his book and kept it under his arm, looking away indifferently. Philip sighed and decided not to waste any more time. "Whatever the case, we should get moving. Won't be much fun if both Damian and Edmund lose the train."

"Too right." Diana agreed. "You heard your father, boys. Damian, keep your eyes open and don't get too far away from us. Actually, if you could just follow us like a shadow, that'd be terrific."

With that said, the Beckwith family walked through the crowded train station, with Damian following his parents and brother like a lost puppy It was strange, he thought, how everyone looked and dressed like ordinary Muggles. Where were the witches and wizards that went to Hogwarts? He didn't saw a single boy or girl his age wearing the school uniform, and all the adults around seemed to be Muggles judging by their lack of wands and pointy hats, a very common garment among wizards and witches alike. Maybe it was because they wanted to keep a low profile and avoid being recognized? It made sense, and he was with his family anyways. As long as he kept his eyes open he would be alright.

They suddenly stopped between platforms 9 and 10, much to Damian's confusion. Where was the platform 9 ¾? The only thing he saw was a dividing barrier between the two platforms, and nothing else. He didn't expect to see a man holding a sign that read 'Express to Hogwarts' or anything like that, but there was absolutely nothing that could help him understand what he was supposed to do.

"Now Edmund, would you please show your little brother the entrance?" Philip asked with a barely contained grin, wanting to see the priceless reaction of his son. Edmund nodded and marched toward the dividing barrier with his trolley. Damian opened his mouth in shock. What was he doing? He was going to crash right into the barrier! But before he could warn him, a large group of tourists came out of nowhere and, by the time they were gone, so was Edmund.

Damian blinked once… twice… thrice. "Dad, where's Edmund?"

"Why, he's in platform 9 ¾ of course!" Philip said with a chuckle.

"What? But how… Magic." Damian said in realization, feeling a little bit stupid for not figuring out earlier. Although he couldn't really blame himself. After all, he was still eleven years-old and had yet to figure out how magic truly worked.

"Alright lad, you already know what to do. Run into the barrier as fast as you can, and don't worry, nobody will see you. Your mother and I will go after you."

Damian gulped, took a deep breath and started pushing his trolley towards the solid-looking barrier. Even after witnessing his brother disappearing upon contact, the idea of crashing into the barrier was not amusing. Silently praying to all existing and non-existing deities out there, Damian picked up the pace and closed his eyes.

Instead of crashing into the barrier and making an idiot out of himself, Damian felt a slight shiver go down his spine. He opened his eyes and was shocked by what he saw. He found himself in a completely different platform packed with people. There was a sign overhead that said 'Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock'. Boys and girls were boarding the train, some of them already wearing the Hogwarts school uniform. He saw Edmund reading a book with a bored expression on his face not too far away.

Damian let out a wide grin. This. Was. Awesome.

He was feeling so excited he didn't even noticed the presence of his parents until Philip placed a hand on his shoulder. "Amazing, isn't it? After all this time, magic is still like a mystery to me. There's a ton of things you can learn, and the more you study, the more magic you'll be able to do, so make sure to pay attention in class and to get good grades like Edmund."

"Mhm-mhm." Damian replied absentmindedly, still staring at the train.

"However, keep in mind that Hogwarts is also a place to make friends and meet new people. Some of the people I met at Hogwarts became my best friends, and they still are to this very day."

The thought of making friends was so appealing to Damian that his ears perked up. He turned around and gave his father a smile. "Don't worry about it. By the end of the year, Venus won't be able to rest because of all the letters I'll be getting from my friends."

Philip chuckled. "That's all very well and good, but remember this: True friends are those you can count with one hand. That's an old Muggle saying, and I think it's deadly accurate. My father told me the same thing when I first attended Hogwarts. He knew about life, he did. That's why I want you to make the best out of the next nine months you'll be spending away from us."

"Take care, my ickle little pumpkin pastry." Diana cooed as she hugged her son one last time. Damian had half a mind to pull away from the hug but decided not to do so. Instead, he simply hugged his mother back. He wasn't going to see her or his father for the next nine months (he had yet to decide whether he would spend Christmas in Hogwarts or with his family), and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't going to miss them. "Now, promise you'll send us letters on a daily basis. We want to know what you're up to."

"And one last thing." Philip said as he placed both his hands on Damian's shoulders and stared at him with fondness. "Keep your eyes open for the woman of your life. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet her this very year and you won't realize it until much later."

Had he been drinking something, Damian was sure he would've spilled it right into his father's face. "What?"

"Just saying." his father answered with a shrug. "It happened to me, you know."

Damian decided to ignore his father's last advice, clearly not interested in keeping his eyes opened for the woman of his life. He had a lot more interesting things to do, like learning how to hex people, how to make things move around and entering the Quidditch Team (which would only happen once he entered his second year, and if he passed the tryouts). Hugging his father goodbye, the youngest son of the Beckwith family got inside the train and started looking for an empty compartment.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?"

Damian closed his book ( _Curses and Countercurses_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian) and looked at the individual that just entered through the compartment's door. It was a boy his age. He had black, untidy hair and green eyes. He wore a pair of round, poorly-mended glasses and clothes that didn't fit him at all; four or five sizes too big. The fact that he was naturally skinny didn't help things, either.

"Not at all, help yourself." Damian replied eagerly. Before finding an empty compartment, Damian searched everywhere for Edmund. He supposed they could've shared a compartment, but he never found his brother, who probably preferred the company of a book anyways.

The boy nodded and took a seat in front of him, followed by a slightly awkward silence were none of the wizards uttered a word. Damian supposed the boy in front of him was just as nervous as he was. "My name's Damian, by the way. Damian Beckwith." he said as he extended his hand.

The green-eyed wizard shook it. "I'm Harry. Harry… Potter." he muttered at the end.

Damian blinked. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch you. Harry what?"

"Harry Potter." Harry repeated, this time loud enough so that his name could be heard properly.

"Harry Potter? Wait, you mean…" Damian trailed off, a bewildered look on his face. When he saw the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead, all doubts were erased. He was, indeed, talking and sharing compartment with none other than the Boy-Who-Lived. "Wow, that's just… I mean, I had no idea…" He truly didn't know what he was supposed to say, considering he didn't entered the train hoping to encounter the boy who, as a baby, took down the darkest, most evil wizard to ever live. His stammering came to an end when he noticed Harry's awkward expression. "I-I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… well, I wasn't expecting to meet you, that's all."

"It's okay, really." Harry shrugged. "I'm just not used to it, the fame."

Damian nodded and forced himself to remain calm. Even though he wasn't, by any means, famous, he could imagine how annoying it had to be for him to have complete strangers pointing at him and wishing him well even when they had never met before. Harry didn't look like the talkative, open kind of boy. If anything, he seemed to be the opposite of that. "So… Erh, would you mind if I ask you a question?"

Harry nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"Well, I was just wondering, where have you been all of this time? Ever since You-Know-Who disappeared, all of the adults have been telling us stories about you, but I've never heard anything else. Did you grow up with Muggles?"

"Yeah, I did. I live with the Dursleys. They're my uncle, aunt and cousin." Harry said with a grim look. "They knew I was a wizard, but they hate anything that has to do with magic, so they just kept me away from the wizarding world for the past ten years. I didn't even know about Hogwarts until I got my letter."

To say that Damian was shocked was an understatement. Harry Potter, probably the most famous child in the entire wizarding world, didn't know about magic until he was eleven years-old? That was one of the most, if not the most, ironic things he had ever heard in his life. "So, you don't know about anything magic? Anything at all?"

Harry proceeded to tell Damian everything he knew about the wizarding world… which wasn't a lot. Damian was impressed by Harry's lack of knowledge, but didn't blame him in the slightest. Just when he was about to fill Harry in, the compartment's door slid open, revealing a red haired boy with lots of freckles. "Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full." he asked them.

Both Damian and Harry shook their heads and the boy sat down next to Harry. Before the newcomer could introduce himself, a pair of redheaded twins opened the door. "Oy, Ron, we're going down the middle of the train. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there." one of them said. They looked very similar to Ron, so Damian supposed they were brothers.

"Harry," the other twin said. "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"You know them?" Damian asked Harry once the twins were gone.

"Sort of. They helped me with my trunk."

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out while looking a tad bit anxious. He visibly relaxed when he saw Harry nodding. "Oh, that's good. I just thought Fred and George were setting me up like they usually do. So, erh, do you have the… the scar?"

Harry answered by lifting his hair up, allowing his forehead scar to be seen clearly.

"Blimey."

Damian decided it was time to introduce himself. "Your name's Ron, right? I'm Damian Beckwith."

"Ron Weasley." Both teens shook hands with a smile on their faces. Damian felt particularly happy too. It felt so good to be around people his age and not having to worry about accidentally saying the word 'magic'. If anything, magic was pretty much the only thing that students talked about, and Damian was more than eager to join the conversation.

"Are both of your families all wizards?" Harry asked as he looked at Ron and Damian.

"Erh… Yeah, I think so," Ron said. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"An accountant?" What's that?" Damian asked.

"A Muggle job that's all about numbers and money, or at least that's what Mom told me when I asked." Ron said while shrugging his shoulders. "What about you? Are you a Muggle-born?"

Damian shook his head. "Mom and Dad are wizards, but they're both Muggle-born so I know a bit about the Muggle world. I reckon my Mom was named after a famous Muggle. Her name's Diana and I think my grandparents named her after someone of the royalty or something like that."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Diana? As in Lady Diana, the princess of Wales?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" Damian snapped his fingers.

"I bet you two must know loads of magic already."

"Me?" Damian asked while pointing at himself. "Not really. Dad says I shouldn't try to do magic at my age, he reckons is unsafe and that I'll end up hurting myself. Besides, I just got my wand, so it's not like I've done a lot of spells or anything… Although, sometimes I steal Edmund's wand and practice jinxes on my own." he added at the last minute, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Who's Edmund?" Ron asked.

"He's my older brother. He's in Ravenclaw, actually. Do you have any brothers or sisters besides Fred and George?"

Ron nodded, and for some reason, he looked gloomy. "I have three other brothers and one sister. I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left; Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Harry perked up. "You have a rat with you?"

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't af-." his ears went pink at that. "-I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

The next twenty minutes were spent teaching Harry about the wizarding world and discussing things like potions, Quidditch, charms, and what they expected to learn in Hogwarts. Damian noticed how much attention Harry paid to what they talked about, and how interested he was about learning more from the wizarding culture. He also started to open himself more with every joke they shared, and Damian even managed to make Harry laugh a couple of times.

A knock on the door interrupted Ron's 'hilarious Goblin joke' that he once heard from his brother Bill. They all turned their heads around and saw a smiling, slightly overweight woman in her forties. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" she asked in a sugary tone, almost as sugary as the sweets she brought with herself. She had everything, from Chocolate Frogs to Licorice Wands.

Harry stood up almost immediately (he didn't have any breakfast this morning) and started looking for something inside his pockets. Ron's ears went pink and muttered something about already having food for the trip. Damian was about to pull out his pouch full of Sickles to buy some Chocolate Frogs but, much to his surprise, Harry pulled out his own pouch and bought a little bit of everything the woman had to offer. "Are you… Are you gonna eat all of that on your own?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course not. Come, have some." Harry replied after dropping the candies onto an empty seat.

"Are you sure? I have some money; you don't have to spend yours on me."

But Harry insisted, so Damian obliged and helped himself a Chocolate Frog. After all, it was rude to say no when people offered you food, right?

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron after finishing a Cauldron Cake, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No." Ron said. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know. Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect (he paused a little to swallow the Pumpkin Pasty inside his mouth) famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

"I don't know if they even have Agrippa or Ptolemy." Damian quipped. "I must've eaten like, a hundred Chocolate Frogs and I still can't find either of them."

Harry ate the Chocolate Frog (at first with disgust, but with delight at the end) and stared at the card that came inside the box. It showed a man's face. He wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. There was a small description on the other side of the card:

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts_

 _Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

"So this is Dumbledore." Harry mused.

"Yup, greatest wizard of all time. Some people call him 'Merlin Reborn'." Damian said.

"Wait, so Merlin is real? He's not from a fairy tale?" Harry asked in astonishment.

"I don't know what you mean by fairy tale, but Merlin's real alright."

After the Chocolate Frogs, Damian and Ron introduced Harry to Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. They repeatedly warned him he truly could get any flavor, including apple, vanilla, honey, chocolate, and others not-as tasty like rubber, dirt, grass, and leather. Ron tried out one and made a disgusting sound, claiming it tasted like sprouts. Damian also had one and immediately regretted it because it tasted like 'dog drool'. Harry was considerably luckier than his two friends, choosing one that was caramel-flavored.

When most of the beans were eaten, a round-faced boy called Neville came by and asked them if they had seen a toad. They shook their heads and Neville left the compartment with his eyes full of tears. "Don't know why he's so bothered." the redheaded boy commented. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. Although he didn't voice his thoughts, Damian was inclined to agree with Ron. His rat was… uninteresting, to say the least.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

Ron retrieved his wand from his trunk and was about to cast the spell on Scabbers when the compartment's door slid open again. This time, a girl wearing the school uniform appeared. She had lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. "Has anyone seen a toad around here? A boy called Neville lost it." Oh, and she also had a bossy tone of voice.

"We already told Neville we haven't seen his toad." Damian said, but the girl wasn't listening to him. She seemed a lot more interested in the wand Ron was holding.

"Oh, you're doing magic? Let me see, then."

Ron cleared his throat and stared awkwardly at Scabbers. "Erh, right. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl said. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

It took the boys a while to comprehend what she just said. She spoke really fast.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"Damian Beckwith."

"Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you really? I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"I-I am?" Harry asked faintly.

Sensing Harry's uneasiness, Damian decided to interrupt Hermione. "Hey, wanna see a really cool spell?" he asked as he pulled out his wand. Three pair of eyes looked at him with great interest. Smiling mischievously, Damian pointed his wand at Ron. "Eructum." Ron winced a little but nothing seemed out of place. "Ron, what was the name of your rat again?"

Ron raised an eyebrow but replied nonetheless. "Scabb-eeeerph." he said with a rather audible burp. Harry and Damian burst out laughing while Ron's face went red. Hermione didn't look amused, but rather annoyed by the childish display of magic.

"Now, if you don't mind behaving your age…" Hermione interrupted. "… Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." With that said, Hermione closed the door and walked away.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it." Ron said with an annoyed huff. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What House are your brothers in?" Harry asked Ron as he tried his best to stop snickering.

"Gryffindor. Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"I wouldn't mind Hufflepuff, but I don't want to end in Slytherin or Ravenclaw." Damian said. "My brother's in Ravenclaw and he's a real stuck-up. I had an uncle who was in Gryffindor, though."

"Had?" Ron asked confused.

"He died a long time ago. Muggle accident."

"Oh… Sorry."

Damian shrugged. "Don't worry. It happened when I was a baby, so I never really got to know him."

In a successful attempt to change the topic, Ron asked Harry if he knew what happened in Gringotts. Someone tried to steal something from a high-security vault. The funny thing was that nothing seemed to be stolen, according to the Goblins. The perpetrators were still yet to get caught, which was nothing short of amazing. Harry remembered how Hagrid told him only someone insane would try to steal from Gringotts. He also remembered how Hagrid retrieved something from a vault the day they went shopping at Diagon Alley, and how mysterious the whole affair felt.

After discussing the Gringotts news, Damian and Ron felt the need to explain Harry the rules of Quidditch. The sport itself was pretty easy to understand. Harry felt amused by how passionate both Ron and Damian were when they compared the Chudley Cannons to Puddlemere United, their favorite teams respectively.

Apparently, the compartment they were sharing was very popular, because they were interrupted for a fourth time. Not by the twins, not by Neville, not by Hermione, but by a blond boy with pale skin and grey eyes. He was accompanied by two fat boys who looked more like trolls. "Is it true?" the pale boy said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." Harry replied curtly. He had already interacted with the boy back at Diagon Alley when they both visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, and his first impression of the boy was not a good one.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle. My name's Malfoy, by the way. Draco Malfoy."

He spoke with such arrogance that it was hard for Damian to keep a straight face. The same thing happened to Ron, who let out a laugh hidden in a cough.

Draco glared at Ron. "What, you reckon my name is funny? I don't even need to ask yours. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Damian stopped shaking with mirth and glared at the blond boy. He had no idea who he was, but he wasn't about to let Draco make fun of Ron and get away with it. "Shut up. At least Ron looks like a boy. You look like an ugly girl, but with pants instead of a skirt."

Draco's face went red in anger as he approached Damian with a murderous look. "Who do you think you are? Don't you know who you're talking to?"

"… A boy who looks like an ugly girl?"

Ron roared in laughter and Harry had a wide grin on his face. Damian was honestly surprised with himself. He never knew he could be that witty when it came to comebacks. Nevertheless, he enjoyed seeing Draco's face contorting with rage. Draco then faced Harry. "I'm telling you Potter, you don't want to go making friends with rubbish like these two." he said while giving Ron and Damian a dirty look. "I can help you with that."

He offered his hand, but Harry didn't accept it. "I think I can tell who's rubbish and who's not by myself, thanks."

Looking highly insulted, Draco retrieved his hand and faced Harry with a sneer. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either."

Harry was instantly on his feet. "Say that again."

"Oh, you're going to take us on?"

But the fight never came to be. Apparently sensing the danger, Scabbers suddenly awoke from his slumber and started biting Goyle's thumb with his sharp and yellow teeth. Goyle let out a hysterical yell and swung Scabbers round and round until the rat finally pulled out his teeth and landed on an empty seat. The three boys quickly backed away and left the compartment with Goyle whimpering all the way out. Half a minute later, Hermione was again sliding their door open.

"What has been going on?" she demanded. "I heard someone shouting. You haven't been messing around, have you?"

"No, we haven't." Ron replied with an annoyed look, obviously not pleased that Hermione was here with them again. "You've met Malfoy before?" he asked Harry, who nodded and explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley. "I've heard of his family. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"I just came here to tell you three to hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there… Were you fighting?"

"Scabbers was, not us." Damian replied with a grin.

"Would you mind leaving while we change?" Ron scowled at her.

"All right, I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." Hermione said in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her while she left. They all changed quickly into their school uniforms, feeling more anxious than ever. Once they were done, Damian noticed how worn out Ron's robes were. Definitely second-hand. He felt a tinge of pity for the Weasleys, who obviously didn't have enough resources to live comfortably. "You know what we should do?" Damian asked out of the blue. "We should stay friends even if we end up in different Houses. How does that sounds?"

Ron grinned. "As long as you don't end up in Slytherin, you've got a deal mate."

"I'd like that." Harry said with a smile. He may have earned himself a rival with Draco, but he also found Ron and Damian, his two new friends.

First chapter of 'A Fourth Wand' completed.

I've always wanted to write a HP fic with my OC in it. I grew bored of reading about Sirius Black's daughter/ son, so I came up with Damian Beckwith. What do you think of him? Like him so far? Let me know your thoughts.

Review, Follow and Favorite at will.


	2. Chapter 2

**A FOURTH WAND**

(Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OCs here)

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2: THE SORTING HAT**

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Damian, Ron and Harry tried their best to stick together as they followed Hagrid down a dark, narrow path. Some of the first years were whispering excitedly to one another, while others were focused in not being left behind. They arrived to a lake where a fleet of small boats sitting in the water by the shore.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid warned. Harry got on a boat, followed by Damian, Ron and Neville (who miraculously found his toad Trevor near the shore). Once all of the first years were ready, Hagrid called 'Forward!' and the boats started to move forward in unison. Damian felt slightly nervous, wondering if the small boat they were riding wouldn't withstand the weight of four boys. But once he caught sight of the castle, all of his worries faded away.

Hogwarts was HUGE. The amount of towers and turrets the castle had only seemed to further enhance its greatness. Damian couldn't help but wonder how many years would take him to memorize all the rooms and passages Hogwarts had. Judging by the size of the castle, probably a couple of lifetimes.

The boats went through a dark tunnel near the end of the lake, which seemed to take them underneath the castle. They reached what could only be described as an underground harbor where the students eagerly climbed out of the boats and onto solid ground. Hagrid led them through a passageway that reached Hogwarts' entrance. He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

TUMP TUMP TUMP

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern look on her face, and Damian could tell she was not someone who would react kindly towards any display of cheekiness.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid announced.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." And with a swift, elegant move of her wrist, she signaled the first years to follow her.

…

"Blimey, this place is huge!" Ron told Harry and Damian with a loud whisper as they walked through several corridors. The stone walls were adorned with several torchlights and the ceiling was unnaturally high up. "How are we supposed to find our way around here?"

"Can't you just ask Fred and George for directions?" Damian asked back. "They've been here for two years now, haven't they?"

Ron snorted at that. "Knowing them, they'll probably send us to the Forbidden Forest. I'd never ask them to help me with anything. They prank people every day. I don't even wanna know how many points they've lost during their two years here. "

Professor McGonagall led them to a small, empty chamber and waited for the students to regroup before addressing them. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House Dormitory, and spend free time in your House Common Room."

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

When she left the chamber, Damian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Professor McGonagall spoke with such a strict tone it was hard not to feel affected. "How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" he heard Harry ask Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Damian also thought Fred was joking. What sort of school would deliberately hurt a bunch of first years just to see in what House they would be sorted in? That would be a little barbaric for anyone with common sense. Besides, Edmund had always been a wimp. If HE was able to pass a test that had to do with pain endurance, then Damian could as well. He turned his head to the right and saw Harry paling slightly. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"I don't know how to do magic." he whispered back. "How am I supposed to pass a test if I don't know how to do a single spell?"

Damian's eyes widened at that. It was true. Harry didn't even know about Hogwarts or magic in general until he was eleven. How was he going to pass a magic test if he barely knew about magic at all? And what about himself? Was he supposed to perform a number of spells in order to pass the Sorting Ceremony? He only knew how to do the Burp Jinx, and he doubted the school staff would be impressed by that. He could already imagine Professor McGonagall shooing him out of Hogwarts once she discovered the only magic he could do was making people burp.

Five minutes later, Professor McGonagall returned. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Form a straight line and follow me."

Hoping that the Burp Jinx would be enough for him to pass, Damian got into line behind Hermione, who kept whispering to herself all the spells she could do. She reminded him of Edmund, except that Edmund rarely bothered to start an actual conversation with someone whom he deemed 'less-intelligent' than him, which was the reason why he and Damian rarely talked to one another. They used to get along fine when they were toddlers, but time changed, and so did people.

Professor McGonagall opened a pair of double doors and allowed the first years to enter the Great Hall. Damian supposed the Great Hall could only be described as magnificent and glorious. Thousands and thousands of candles were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. The velvety black ceiling was dotted with stars. Hermione kindly informed them that, according to _Hogwarts, A History_ , the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside.

A four-legged stool in front of the first years. There was a pointed wizard's hat on top of the stool. For a minute, Damian thought he was supposed to charm the hat, transform it into something or just do something that would magically affect the hat (how was he supposed to make a hat burp was far beyond him). Then, much to the first years' shock, the hat grew a mouth and started singing.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

'You're not.' Damian thought absentmindedly.

 _But don't judge on what you see._

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands…_

'You don't have any.'

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Before Damian could ask Ron how first years were supposed to wrestle a troll, Professor McGonagall motioned everyone to remain silent while holding a long roll of parchment. "Now, when I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause…

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

'Alright, so all I have to do is to let the hat sort me into one of the Houses. That's a relief.' Damian thought, visibly relaxed. 'Wait, if that hat can sing… Does that mean I can cast the Burp Jinx on it… or is it a him?'

"Abdon, Daniel!"

A boy with dirty blond hair put on the hat and sat down…

"RAVENCLAW!"

Six other children proceeded to sit down and let the hat decide their Houses. Damian was so distracted he almost missed Professor McGonagall calling his name. "Beckwith, Damian!"

Damian took a deep breath and walked his way towards the hat, dutifully ignoring the expecting stares he was receiving from the rest of the students. He sat down on the stool and placed the hat over his head. He flinched slightly when he heard a foreign voice inside his head. _'What do we have here? Another Beckwith, I see.'_

'What? How are you… How are we… Can you hear me?'

' _I can hear you quite well. Now… Hmmm, not particularly bright, but you have the appropriate mindset to learn. You lack cunningness, and you are not interested in plotting, either. You long for friendship, and I can see you are already developing bonds with certain students. You ought to be in Hufflepuff… But what is this? Ah, yes. You remind me of a relative of yours. Jonathan Beckwith was similar to you, and I can sense the hidden courage and willingness to act against injustice when you witness it.'_

'My uncle was like me when he was my age?' Damian asked the hat in awe. He ignored the fact that he was asking about his uncle to a talking hat.

' _Indeed. Under normal circumstances, you would be sorted into Hufflepuff. However, your strong emotions and your temper say otherwise. You are no stranger to hard work, but you also know talent. Yes, all things considered…'_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

Damian took of the hat and placed it on the stool. He heard the Gryffindor table cheer and let out a wide grin, feeling somewhat proud for being the first Gryffindor of his year. Even if Hufflepuff was a good choice, he had a feeling Gryffindor would suit him best. Ron clapped eagerly, and even Fred and George were whistling victoriously at him despite only seeing him once. He took a seat next to the twins, who both placed a hand on his shoulders.

"Congratulations for becoming one of us, Damy boy. Welcome to Gryffindor." Fred congratulated him.

"You couldn't ask for a finer House, I tell you." George added.

"Truly magnificent."

"Honorable and chivalric."

"Splendid beyond comparison."

"Sublime through and through."

"I'm Fred."

"I'm George."

"And if you're in need of a helping hand…"

"… Look no further, for here we are."

Damian simply smirked at them. "Ron told me about you two. He said you were pranksters that lose House points every day."

George covered his mouth in fake shock. "I can't believe this! Ronniekins is already talking ill about us?"

"Such vile treachery, and coming from our own blood nonetheless." Fred shook his head in mock despair.

"I believe it's our duty to teach our young brother not to spread false testimony against his siblings. Don't you agree, brother o' mine?"

"I do, brother dearest. I most certainly do."

"You're gonna prank him, aren't you?" Damian asked with a knowing grin.

The twins grinned back. "That's precisely what we're gonna do."

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"… GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted after a while, and Damian could almost hear Ron groaning despite the sound of clapping hands. He was a little perplexed. From what he could tell, Hermione definitely had a Ravenclaw persona. But then again, he was supposed to be a Hufflepuff, so it wasn't that odd.

Witches and wizards were sorted into their Houses, and the once large group of first years was considerably smaller now, with only a couple of students remaining. "Potter, Harry!"

As if on cue, whispers started to spread like wildfire.

"Did she say Potter?"

"As in, Harry Potter?"

"Who's Harry Potter? What's the big deal?"

"You mean you've never heard of him before?"

"I had no idea he was coming to Hogwarts."

"I'm owling Mom and Dad as soon as I can."

Harry sat on the stool with his eyes closed and frowning, like he was debating with the hat. He muttered something, but his lips were unreadable. Damian crossed his fingers and waited, waited, waited…

"… GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table roared in approval, and Percy Weasley (who was like a more open version of Edmund from what Damian could tell) immediately stood up and shook hands with the boy, who shakily sat next to a boy called Seamus Finnigan. A couples of names later, it was Ron's turn. It took the Sorting Hat less than half a minute to decide. After a loud 'Gryffindor!', Ron made his way to the table and joined Harry, Damian and his brothers. Damian couldn't believe his luck. He was in the same House as his two friends, just like he wished back in the Hogwarts Express.

Once the Sorting Ceremony was complete, Dumbledore stood up and raised his voice. "Welcome." he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! That would be all for now. Thank you for your attention!"

…

'What?'

Unable to comprehend the oddity displayed by the Headmaster, Damian decided to let it go and started eating the food that magically appeared on the tables. Sausages, pork chops, beacon, roast beef, potatoes, fries, and a handful of other delicious dishes were waiting to be devoured by the students. Damian watched in amusement how Ron ate a bit of everything, as if his plate was begging him to eat as much as he could. He piled his plate with sausages and rice and began eating with gusto. It tasted just like the food Gorky used to cook for him.

Then came dessert time. Ice cream, pudding, apple pies, fruits, cake, and a ton of other exquisites' choices. Damian took a slice of strawberry tart and made a mental note of being careful with how much he ate. He didn't want to gain a lot of weight, after all. As he reached for his napkin, he leaned closer to his side and started listening to what the rest of his housemates were talking about.

"I'm half-and-half." Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." The others laughed at him.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch." Neville started to say. "My family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. He once pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, and I nearly drowned. Nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced, all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here. They thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

Far from laughing, Damian had no idea what were Neville's relatives thinking. Honestly, who would push an eleven year-old off the end of Blackpool just to see if the boy was magical or not? Trying to force magic out of a boy was fine, as long as it was done carefully and within the limits of rational thought. What Great Uncle Algie did to Neville was dangerous and cruel, and probably punishable by law.

While they were eating, Harry suddenly felt a hot shot of pain and rubbed his scar. Damian noticed this and approached his friend. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing." he said quickly. Damian didn't seem so convinced but kept his doubts to himself. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

The ice cream on Damian's spoon vanished, as well as the rest of the food. Everyone stared in silence as Dumbledore stood from his seat and started speaking. "Ahern, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

…

Damian didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore announced much to everyone's chagrin. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

 _"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

 _Teach us something please,_

 _Whether we be old and bald_

 _Or young with scabby knees,_

 _Our heads could do with filling_

 _With some interesting stuff,_

 _For now they're bare and full of air,_

 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

 _So teach us things worth knowing,_

 _Bring back what we've forgot,_

 _just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

 _And learn until our brains all rot."_

Damian kept his mouth shut, not only because he didn't know the lyrics, but also because of the stupidity that was the school song. How the school staff was able to sing the entire thing with a straight face, Damian had no idea.

"Ah, music." Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Damian watched in absolute awe how the people inside the portraits were whispering and pointing at them. They kept climbing stairs until they reached a long corridor. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves." Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice. "Peeves, show yourself!"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves." Percy said as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor, there was a large portrait of a plumpish woman wearing a pink dress made out of silk. Percy informed them that this was the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. Damian thought it was slightly cruel to have a woman inside a portrait and simply calling her 'the Fat Lady', as if she didn't have a real name. "Password?" the Fat Lady inquired.

"Caput Draconis." Percy replied with a great deal of self-importance.

The Fat Lady nodded and the portrait swung forward to reveal an entrance. The students quickly went through the entrance and up some stairs until they finally reached their destination. The Common Room was filled with red squashy armchairs and there was a chimney that gave the room a warm and cozy feeling.

Percy led the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase, Damian finally found his dormitory. His trunk was already there, and soon enough he was pulling the blankets of his bed and resting his head on his soft pillow. He wanted to stay awake and talk for the rest of the night, but only when he closed his eyes he realized just how tired he was.

Before he knew it, Damian was already dreaming about winning the Quidditch World Cup.

* * *

Second chapter of 'A Fourth Wand' completed.

I know this chapter is a lot shorter than the previous one, but I think this is a good stopping point. Besides, I believe the following chapters will be around 4.000-5.000 words long, so don't worry.

Review, Follow and Favorite at will.


	3. Chapter 3

**A FOURTH WAND**

(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, only my OC's)

* * *

Chapter 3: The Potions Master

"Ah, yes," Professor Snape said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

Damian looked at his Potions Mater with slight fear. So far, all of his teachers seemed to be nice enough, or at least tolerable. Professor Flitwick was nice, he supposed. Maybe the fact that Charms was one of his favorite subjects so far had something to do with it. Professor McGonagall was… strict, but fair nonetheless. Professor Binns was boring through and through, and taking into consideration that he was a ghost (seriously, Damian thought having a ghost as a teacher would be awesome), that was saying something. Professor Quirrell was competent, but his lack of confidence and his stuttering was so obnoxious that it was hard to take him seriously at times. Professor Sprout was kind, and her positive attitude made it easy for Damian to like her.

But then came Professor Snape, and boy was he different from the rest of the school staff. Everything about him seemed to shout out loud 'If I detect something remotely funny about you, prepare to lose more House points than what you care to count'. Once Damian entered the dungeons, he made sure to not aggravate the Potions Master, or at least to get out of his way.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Professor Snape started to say. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Of course, it wasn't like anyone dared to interrupt his speech. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stop death… if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach, that is."

Damian was sitting next to Hermione, who seemed to close her tiny fists in anticipation. She certainly was eager to prove Professor Snape that she wasn't a dunderhead in any existing shape, way or form.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape asked out of the blue.

Harry flinched as he was addressed, and seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer. Damian felt pity for him, but at the same time, he was thankful for not having to be the one to answer. "I… erh, I don't know, sir." Harry managed to mumble.

The Potions Master sneered at him. "Fame clearly isn't everything." Now it was Damian's turn to flinch as Snape redirected his gaze at him. "Let's see if Beckwith here can show an ounce of knowledge on behalf of Gryffindor. Tell me, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The poor boy shifted uneasily on his seat, and he almost responded 'Inside your cupboard', but fortunately his brain reacted in time. A bezoar… he had heard that word before, but from where? Most likely from one of Edmund's many lectures about how he managed to identify fifteen different kinds of bezoars, which could be found inside… the stomach of a goat! That was it… right? "…Inside the stomach of a goat?" Instead of a firm reply, it came more as an uncertain question.

Snape's mouth twitched in irritation, but he quickly recovered himself. "Next time I ask you something, Beckwith, I expect you to come up with an answer, not another question." Damian wisely remained silent, but he found himself feeling irked by Snape's unfriendly and unfair attitude. He didn't even bother to tell Damian if his answer/question was correct or not. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione raised he hand for the third time, but Snape dutifully ignored her. "I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

It was clear that Harry's suggestion was nothing more than that: A suggestion. Professor Snape, however, ingeniously managed to translate Harry's suggestion into an insult. "Your cheekiness just costed House Gryffindor five points, Potter. And just so you know, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

The rest of the class could be summarized in three words: Instructions, ingredients, and smoke. Damian tried his hardest to brew an acceptable potion, but identifying and measuring the ingredients was harder than what Damian first thought it would be. He had the idea that Potions Class was going to be easy, that he only needed to read the instructions carefully and to follow them. While that was theoretically correct, brewing a potion proved to be a lot harder than what Damian expected.

He looked at Hermione, who was carefully gathering the porcupine quills she needed to add to her brewing. While she was doing this, Damian was still crushing snake fangs, making sure to leave them as sandy as possible. One thing he noticed was that the only student Snape seemed to like was Malfoy, and he even praised him every once in a while. The Potions Master was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

Neville had somehow managed to melt his cauldron into a twisted blob, and his potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Despite the situation, Damian couldn't help but find a little funny how Neville's potion, instead of curing boils, it created them. How ironic.

"Idiot boy!" Snape hissed, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Neville whimpered in response. "You," Snape spat at Seamus. "Take him up to the hospital wing. And you, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Though he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

The accusation was so unjust that even Damian was about to protest. In fact, he was about to open his mouth before Hermione tugged his sleeve. "Don't say anything!" she said in a loud whisper. "You'll only manage to lose more points!"

"But Hermione, did you see how unfair that was? Harry hasn't done anything and Snape keeps blaming him!" he whispered back.

"I know, but arguing with him will only make things worse!"

Damian huffed out of frustration, but otherwise remained quiet. He couldn't understand why Snape hated Harry. What had he done to him? He asked himself the same question over and over again until the class came to an end. He reached for a small bottle and poured some of his potion into it, then grabbed a label with his name on it and attached it to the sample. Like the rest of his classmates, he left his sample on Snape's desk and hurriedly walked out of the dungeons.

* * *

"… I think Snape doesn't like you." Damian commented as he, Harry and Ron left the castle and made their way across the grounds. They were going to visit Hagrid, who lived in a small wooden house near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"You don't say?" Harry asked sarcastically. He left the Potions Class feeling both confused and sulky, not understanding why Snape treated him the way he did.

"I told you, Snape doesn't like Gryffindors." Ron said. "You could've answered every single one of his questions correctly and he'd still find a way to make you lose points. He's just foul like that,"

Damian snorted at that. "Snape's foul alright. But I still think he has like, I dunno, some sort of vendetta against Harry. It's like he enjoys making fun of you,"

"Great," Harry said with a gloomy expression on his face. "I haven't been here longer than a week and one person already hates me,"

"Don't forget about Malfoy," Damian said with a grin. "I wish it had been his cauldron the one who had melted. Can you imagine Snape's reaction to that?" he cleared his throat and imitated the voice of the Potions Master. "Mr. Malfoy, I specifically told you not to wash your hands with the potion you are brewing. Now look at what you have done to yourself. Your nails are as long and dirty as my greasy hair. One hundred points from Slytherin for being an insufferable git dumber than a cauldron."

The three boys broke into laughter as they reached Hagrid's house. There was a crossbow and a pair of galoshes outside the front door. Harry knocked on the door three times. They heard a dog barking from inside the house, as well as the gruff voice of Hagrid. "Back off, Fang. Stupid ol' bag o' bones. Wait just a secon', Harry… Get in there, you. Datt'a boy." The door was finally opened. Hagrid stood aside and allowed the first years to go inside. "Make yerselves at home."

Hagrid's house only had one room, combining bedroom, kitchen, office and living room all at once. There was a big black boarhound standing near Hagrid's massive bed, sniffling enthusiastically at the newcomers. Damian assumed the dog was Fang. 'That's a lot of drool.' He thought as he watched Fang salivating the floor.

"This is Ron and Damian," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

Hagrid raised a furry eyebrow. "Another Weasley, eh? I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." He then glanced at Damian, who was sitting on a big chair near the door. "Ye' wouldn't happen ter' be related ter' Jonathan Beckwith, wouldn't ya'?"

"You knew my uncle?" Damian asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"Aye, I knew the man. Decent fellow, he was. Ye' look just like im'."

"So I've heard." Damian muttered to himself. It was rather strange; A giant gamekeeper and a talking hat knew more about Jonathan Beckwith than his own nephew. Then again, everybody knew more about Harry than Harry himself, so he supposed he couldn't really complain. He joined the conversation while pretending to be enjoying a piece of rock cake.

They talked about their first week in Hogwarts and how they were doing in classes. Everything was going well until Harry told Hagrid about what happened during Potions class. "I don't know why, but Snape really seemed to hate me."

"Rubbish! Why should he?" Hagrid dismissed Harry's thought with a wave of his hand, yet he suddenly looked uncomfortable for some reason. Wanting to change the topic, Hagrid addressed Ron. "How's Charlie doin', by the way? I liked him a lot… great with animals."

Ron didn't seem to notice Hagrid's sudden change of mood as he began telling the giant all about Charlie's work with dragons, with Damian listening closely. Meanwhile, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was an article from the Daily Prophet:

 _GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

 _Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts goblin this afternoon._

"Hagrid, that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!" Harry said as he laid the piece of paper on the table where he found it.

Instead of providing Harry with a proper answer, Hagrid grunted and offered the boy more rock cake while avoiding his gaze. Harry accepted, but no amount of rock cake would help him take off his mind from his recent discovery. There was definitely something suspicious here, and he was almost certain it had something to do with the grubby little package Hagrid took from the vault seven hundred and thirteen of that very same day.

* * *

"Typical. Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

The first Flying lessons were going to take place on Thursday, and while Damian was eager to pick up a broom and start flying around, the notice pinned in the Common Room clearly stated that Gryffindors and Slytherins were going to share the class together. Harry, who had no flying experience whatsoever, was dreading the day that was yet to come. He really wanted to learn how to fly, but he had no intention of embarrassing himself in front of Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin first years.

"You don't know if you're going to make a fool of yourself." Damian reasoned. "For all you know, Malfoy is just as good at flying as you,"

Ron nodded in agreement. "Besides, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he's at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Thursday came, and everyone seemed excited to start the Flying lessons. Malfoy kept telling his schoolmates how he was once chased by Muggle helicopters for an hour. According to Seamus Finnigan, he spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Ron was discussing with Dean Thomas about how Quidditch was much better than Football. The redhead simply couldn't understand what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. While they were going at it, Ron casually told Dean about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Damian amused his roommates by telling them how bad his brother Edmund was at flying. Despite being three years younger than Edmund, Damian was already noticeable better than him at Quidditch. _"Quidditch is the only thing Damian might be proficient at." Damian once heard Edmund tell their parents. "I hardly see how that is worthy of praise."_

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Damian agreed with Neville's grandmother wholeheartedly. The poor boy managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground, and Damian didn't want to think what would happen to him should he hop on a broomstick.

Surprisingly enough, Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was, and Damian had a pretty good idea why. Hermione relied on her knowledge and her impressive brain, but flying was something you couldn't learn by rereading a book several times (not that she hadn't tried). At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all with stupid flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later.

"Hermione," Damian interrupted her before she started to advice everyone on how tight their grip on their broomsticks should be. "Listen, reading about how to fly is all well and good, but the only true way to learn is to actually try… And flying really isn't that hard, either."

That managed to keep her quiet, much to everyone's relief. However, Damian noticed how Hermione seemed to whisper to herself the same advices over and over again.

The arrival of the mail interrupted breakfast. Owls of different color and size flew inside the Dining Hall, delivering letters and packages to the students. Damian received a letter, which he quickly hide away (the letter was addressed to _My sweet Pumpkin Pastry_. He wanted to avoid becoming the school's laughing stock, thank you very much).

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall! Gran knows I forget things, and this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red… Oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall was now glowing scarlet.

"You've forgotten something..."

…

|School grounds|

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch questioned. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

The first years did as told and approached the broomsticks that were lined up on the grass. The broomsticks seemed to be old, and not very reliable. Some of them even had twigs sticking out of their place.

"Now, stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!"'

Everyone started shouting 'Up!' and the broomsticks started levitating. Some of them moved a couple of inches from the ground while a few lucky first years managed to reach their brooms with their command. Damian was one of the few, although it was a matter of experience rather than luck. He already knew how to lift a broomstick from the ground with the use of his voice and it really wasn't that difficult once he got the hang of it. He was impressed with Harry, who managed to command his broomstick without much trouble. Harry was actually one of the few first years alongside Damian and Malfoy who were able to grasp their brooms during their first try, and considering this was his first flying lesson ever, it was quite an achievement.

Madam Hooch then proceeded to show everyone how to properly mount their brooms. Damian paid little attention as he already knew how to fly. His interest quickly peaked, however, when Madam Hooch watched Malfoy brag about his flying skills with his fellow Slytherins before pointing out to him that he had been mounting his broom incorrectly for years. Damian sniggered as Malfoy's cheeks changed colors.

Once again, Madam Hooch called everyone's attention with her firm voice. "Good start. Now, as soon as I blow my whistle, you must kick off from the ground hard and fly up and up only. Don't try to move forward or backwards, we'll leave that for the next classes. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. Are you ready? One… Two…"

But before anyone could even think of moving their feet, Neville accidentally pushed off a little too hard and started flying around with no stability whatsoever. The Slytherin first years started laughing while Neville's classmates started shouting him to come back, as if Neville was flying the way he was because he wanted to.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch called, but it was futile. Neville's broom seemed to be almost jinxed as it flew around. The poor boy was crying for help, hanging onto his broom for dear life. Damian was about to mount his broom to approach Neville and help him fly down, but then Neville slipped out of his broom and landed on the grass with a loud THUD noise. The broom flew aimlessly until it soared straight into the sky. Eventually, the broom became a dot as it got lost among the clouds.

Madam Hooch hurriedly made her way to Neville, who was whimpering in pain. His left wrist was bent in a funny angle. "Broken wrist," Madam Hooch muttered as she held Neville and helped him get back on his feet. "Come on, boy, It's alright. And you…" she said while looking at the rest of the first years . "If I see any of you attempting to fly as I bring Mr. Longbottom over to the hospital wing, you'll be packing your things faster than you can say 'Quidditch'. There you go, nice and easy…"

As soon as Neville and Madam Hooch were gone, Malfoy started laughing. "Did you see the face of that great lump? I've seen goblins fly better than him."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Damian snapped. "You didn't even know how to mount a broom on the first place!"

Malfoy's smug face disappeared as he growled at Damian. He opened his mouth to retort, but then a round object that was lying on the grass near him caught his attention. It was Neville's Remembrall. A cruel smirk took place on his pale face. "Look at this!" he said as he gained the attention of his fellow Slytherins. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him. He must've dropped it when he was squealing on the ground like a boar."

"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry said as he took a step forward.

Malfoy's smirk widened. "I have a better idea. How about I leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find? Somewhere like… up in a tree?" With that said, Malfoy grabbed his broom and took off, reaching the top of a tall oak tree nearby. Damian hated to admit it, but Malfoy knew his way around the broom. "What's the matter, Potter? Afraid you'll end up like that Longbottom oaf?"

Ignoring Hermione's warnings, Harry grabbed his broom and took off as well. Damian realized Harry was a natural when it came to flying. This was his first time touching a flying broomstick and he already knew how to fly better than most first years. Malfoy also seemed to be worried, obviously not expecting Harry to take him up on his challenge. "Give it back here before I knock you off your broom, Malfoy!"

"Is that so?" Malfoy tried to sneer, but failed. Not wanting to be outdone, Malfoy flew higher in an attempt to intimidate Harry, who refused to look like a coward and reached Malfoy's altitude. "Alright, if you really want it, you can have it!"

Much to everyone's shock, Malfoy threw the Remembrall high into the air. Harry's instincts kicked in and leaned forward on his broom, pointing the handle at the descending object. He quickly gained speed and, when the Remembrall was a foot from the ground, Harry stretched out his hand and caught it before casually landing on the soft grass.

Damian was about to start clapping like the rest of the Gryffindors, but one voice was heard above all others. "HARRY POTTER!"

It was Professor McGonagall, and she looked like she had just been slapped across her face. Her mouth became a very thin line.

"Never… In all of my years… Could've broken your neck… Absolutely mad…"

"Professor McGonagall, it wasn't Harry's fault." Damian started to say.

"Enough, Mr. Beckwith."

"But Malfoy was trying to-"

"I said enough!" Professor McGonagall interrupted Damian. She redirected her gaze at Harry. "Follow me, Potter. We have a lot to talk about."

And with that said, Harry and McGonagall left the scene while the Slytherins laughed hard, specially Malfoy. Damian gritted his teeth and promised to himself to have a talk with Professor McGonagall as soon as he could, because there was no way he would let Malfoy get away with what he did, consequences be damned.

* * *

And that was chapter 3, wizards and witches.

Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been pretty busy with my studies and other things. I apologize if this chapter is too short, but I just wanted to update this story as soon as possible.

Review, Favorite and/or Follow if you please. I hope you're all liking how this story is going.

Until next chapter…


	4. Chapter 4

**A FOURTH WAND**

 **CHAPTER 4: OF DOGS AND TROLLS**

(Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter belongs to J. . I do own my OC's, however)

* * *

"You became Gryffindor's Seeker?" Damian asked Harry in utter disbelief. "But you're a first year like us! That's not fair!"

Harry gave his friend a cheeky grin, and some of Damian's jealousy faded away. Instead of getting expelled, Harry became a player of Gryffindor's Quidditch Team. Of course he was happy for him, but he simply couldn't help it. Damian wanted to be on the team as well, and he started to wonder if maybe he should fly in front of Professor McGonagall as well. It worked for Harry, didn't it?

Ron wasn't doing much better. His mouth was hanging open, almost asking for a fly to come inside. "Blimey, you must be the youngest House Player in about-"

"-a century." Harry finished for him. "I start training next week, but don't tell anyone. Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Apparently, neither Fred nor George wanted to keep it a secret. They approached Harry and congratulated him for becoming Gryffindor's Seeker. They also told him their jobs as Beaters was to prevent the Bludgers from knocking him out of his broom, and Damian could've sworn Harry's grin started to falter. Damian decided to busy himself with his dinner, smashed potatoes and sausages. He was about to finish his plate when he heard a voice from behind.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

Damian rolled his eyes in annoyance. Of course Malfoy had to show up and ruin the mood.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you." Harry retorted coolly. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles and growled at the Boy-Who-Lived, but even they knew they couldn't possibly hurt Harry in front of the students and the school staff and hope to get away with it.

"Oh please, I could take you on anytime on my own." Malfoy said with a sneer.

"Why don't you prove it, then?" Damian challenged him.

"Very well." Malfoy replied instantly, giving the impression that he had everything planned from the very beginning. "Wizard's duel, tonight. Wands only, no contact. What's the matter, Potter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before?"

"Of course he has." Ron said without missing a beat. "I'm his second."

Damian nodded. "And I'm his third. Who're yours?"

"Crabbe and Goyle. We'll meet you in the Trophy Room at midnight, that's always unlocked." Malfoy then spun around and walked back at the Slytherin table, with Crabbe and Goyle following from behind like a pair of bodyguards.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry looked at his two friends with a mix of anxiety and nervousness. "What's a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you two are my second and third?"

"Well, I think the term 'wizard's duel' is pretty self-explanatory." The brown-haired boy said with an awkward chuckle in an attempt to ease the tension. Needless to say, it failed. "… Right, as for Ron being your second and me being your third, it just means that Ron will take your place if you di… I mean, if you get injured. Likewise, I'll take Ron's place if he gets injured."

"Don't think too much about it." Ron commented casually. "It's not like Malfoy can really hurt you. He'll probably try to send some sparks your way or jinx you, but nothing really serious. We're just first years, after all."

"So what if I wave my wand and nothing happens? What do I do then?"

"Dunno… Maybe you should try to get close to him and punch his nose?" Damian suggested, earning a look of disbelief from Harry and a grin from Ron. "Oi, don't look at me like that! It might work!"

"Excuse me."

The three boys stopped talking and looked at Hermione, who was staring at them with a hard face that could only mean reproach and disappointment.

"What do you want?" Ron questioned with exasperation and rudeness.

"I heard what you three and Malfoy were discussing about, and I couldn't stop myself from coming here-"

"Yeah, I bet she couldn't." Ron whispered into Damian's ear, who was forced to cover his mouth with his hand in order to silence his laughter.

"-and tell you how irresponsible you're behaving. Do you have any idea how many points will Gryffindor loose if you get caught? And trust me, you're bound to be. After what happened in our first flying lesson, it's only because of luck that Harry's still here."

Damian stood up and frowned at Hermione. "That was none of Harry's fault. Malfoy was being a prat and he even stole Neville's Remembrall. Harry was just trying to get it back."

"By doing exactly what Madame Hooch told us not to do." Hermione shot back. "Had it not been for Harry's flying skills, he would've been kicked out of Hogwarts. Is that what you really want, Harry? To get yourself expelled?"

"So we should've just allowed Malfoy to make fun of Harry and bully Neville?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying! But Harry was very careless. He should've told another professor instead of going after Malfoy himself."

Before Damian could argue any further, Ron interrupted his friend with an irritating sigh. "Look, can you just drop it? It really is none of your business." Grabbing both his friend's sleeves, Ron indicated Harry and Damian to follow him, clearly not in the mood to hear Hermione's bickering. "Goodbye." He added nastily. Damian watched how Hermione glared at Ron's back before huffing in frustration and going back to her seat at the table.

Harry, Ron and Damian spent the entire night planning how they were going to defeat Malfoy. Unfortunately, none of them knew any dueling spells because of their inexperience and the library was closed by then, so they couldn't look up for any jinxes that could help them. What was more, they didn't have the time to practice them. They decided they had to show up, hope that Malfoy was nothing but a braggart with a big mouth and somehow win the duel. It wasn't a terrible plan… or so did Damian want to believe.

Damian yawned as his eyes started to blink repeatedly. Maybe it had something to do with the amount of food he ate before going to bed, but he was feeling particularly sleepy that night. He shook his head, telling himself that he couldn't afford to sleep and risk the chance to see Harry show Malfoy who was the better dueler. Besides, if either Crabbe or Goyle decided to intervene, then he would have to as well.

But at the same time, how was he supposed to be of any help if he could barely stay awake? He needed energy in order to help Harry win, and considering how tired he was, he would probably fell asleep on their way to the trophy room. They still had an hour left before they had to go. One hour was more than enough to get some sleep and wake up fully rested. With that in mind, Damian slowly closed his eyes and dozed off. Harry and Ron would wake him up anyway.

Five minutes later, Damian was sleeping like a bear ready to hibernate.

* * *

"Harry, we have to go now!" Ron said with a loud whisper. "We'll be late if we don't."

"But what about Damian? He's still asleep!" Harry replied.

"Wake him up, then!"

"I tried, but he's not waking up! I never thought I'd ever see someone who could fell asleep the same way Dudley does."

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. "Whatever. Just let him sleep. If we waste any more time trying to wake him up, Malfoy will think we're not coming. We'll come up with an excuse on our way to the trophy room."

"Are you sure? Isn't Damian gonna be mad when he realizes we went without him?"

"I'm sure he will forgive us one day, let's just go!"

…

* * *

Saturday morning, and Damian was feeling like he was in Nirvana. His bedsheets were so warm and comfortable, and his pillow was as soft as the wool of a sheep. Letting out a lazy yawn, Damian got out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

For some reason, he felt strange. A small voice in the back of his head was telling him that something wasn't right, that he was missing something. He tried his best to ignore those thoughts and focus on what he and his friends could do during the morning. Maybe he and Harry could go to the Quidditch field and borrow some of the school's flying brooms? Harry needed some practice before he could properly ride a Quidditch-intended broomstick, after all. Damian mentally grinned whenever he thought about Malfoy's face once he saw the broom Harry was riding.

Malfoy… Why was he thinking so much about him? It was early in the morning and it usually took him a while to completely wake up. 'The only thing I remember was Harry and Ron discussing over something last night. We were trying to prepare Harry so he could face Malfoy or something like that… Like a duel… The wizards duel!'

Damian's eyes widened like dinner plates when he remembered what happened yesterday. Malfoy challenged Harry to a wizards duel and he was supposed to be Harry's third. Of course, he had no idea what happened next because he overslept. Damian went back to the bedroom to see if Harry and Ron were still there, but their empty beds indicated that they had already left. Not wasting any more time, he got dressed with the first clothes he could find (a pair of jeans and a homemade sweater) and made his way to the Dining Room.

His hunch was proven correct as both Harry and Ron were eating breakfast together. They seemed tired, but immensely satisfied with themselves at the same time. Damian supposed it had something to do with how they did last night. As soon as they were out of earshot, Damian approached Harry and Ron and demanded some explanations, starting with why didn't they woke him up before meeting with Malfoy and, most importantly, what happened to them during the duel.

Damian found out that Harry and Ron were forced to leave him behind because no matter what they tried, they simply couldn't get him to wake up and their time was limited. Damian thought about it for a minute and supposed he could forgive them this time. Then the interesting part came out. Turns out Malfoy never planned to face Harry in a wizard's duel, but instead attempted to set them up by telling Filch how he overheard two first year students that were planning to have a wizard's duel at midnight.

But what really caught his attention was that, in an unexpected turn of events, Neville and Hermione joined Harry and Ron in their midnight adventure. Neville joined them because he (once again) forgot the password required to enter the Gryffindor Common Room and didn't want to be left alone. Hermione on the other hand, joined them in an attempt to stop the duel as it would only get them bigger troubles. The four first years found themselves running away from the nasty caretaker and his little pet, Mrs. Norris.

During their escape, they accidentally entered the one and only room that was strictly forbidden. More precisely, it was the one and only corridor that Dumbledore warned everybody not to go through. What Damian heard next made his eyes go wide in surprise. Inside the room, there was a giant three-headed dog sleeping like a puppy. Of course, the dog's dream came to an end once the four first years entered the room, and started to bark and growl at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville. Hermione later pointed out that the dog (if one could call it that) was guarding something, for there was a trapdoor that was covered by one of the beast's giant paw. How Hermione was able to spot a trapdoor when she had a giant three-headed dog growling in front of her was beyond Damian's comprehension.

Nonetheless, the following days were relatively peaceful. Hermione refused to speak with Harry and Ron, who were grateful for her silence more than anything. She was, however, willing to speak with Damian or at least acknowledge his presence. Damian supposed it was due to the fact that he wasn't with Harry and Ron the night they were supposed to meet Malfoy in the Trophy Room. Hermione though Damian at least had an ounce of common sense for not joining his two friends in their little adventure. Of course, she had no idea Damian wasn't with them that night because he fell asleep, and not because he thought there was something wrong with facing a fellow first year in a wizard's duel in the middle of the night. Damian decided it was better to let her think that.

Speaking of Hermione, Damian had a hard time figuring her out. She sure was a bossy know-it-all who had a knack to involve herself in other people's affairs, but aside from that, Damian didn't thought of her as a bad person. Unlike Edmund, she wasn't condescending and she didn't thought she was better than the rest of her classmates, even if she probably was. What was more, she was even willing to help others with their homework (especially Neville) as long as they showed a little respect. All in all, Damian believed he could maybe even befriend Hermione if she was willing to take the time to listen to what he had to say and accept other people's point of view. He wasn't dying to have Hermione's friendship or even her approval, but she was a Gryffindor first year just like him, Harry and Ron. If they were going to spend the next seven years together, they might as well make the most of it.

A week after the dog's incident, Hogwarts students were currently going through their mail. Owls were flying here and there, dropping little packages that consisted in letters, newspapers, boxes, etc. As he waited for Venus to show up, Damian saw a white owl carrying a particularly big object in the shape of a rectangular box. Much to his surprise, that white owl was none other than Hedwig, Harry's very own owl. 'What's Hedwig carrying?'

Hedwig dropped the parcel right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. Damian noticed there was a small letter that came with the parcel and told Harry to read it first. This probed to be a wise decision because of what was written inside the letter:

 _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

 _It contains your new Nimbus 2000, but I don't want everybody knowing you have got a broomstick or they will all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

 _Professor McGonagall_

"A Nimbus 2000" Ron all but moaned. "I've never even touched one."

Damian wasn't fairing much better than Ron. He knew Harry was going to get a good broomstick, but a Nimbus 2000? That wasn't just a flashy toy that looked good while in the air, that was the same model of broomstick used by professional Quidditch teams. Professor McGonagall was sure putting a lot of faith in Harry.

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall Malfoy intercepted them, followed by his two loyal companions. He saw the parcel Harry was carrying and pointed at it. "That's a broomstick." Malfoy said as a matter of fact. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed to have them."

"It's not any old broomstick," Ron said as he grinned. "It's a Nimbus 2000. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet 260? Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped viciously. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Damian frowned heavily at Malfoy. "Maybe so, but at least Ron isn't a spoiled prat like you. What are you going to do now? Write a letter to your father and ask for a Nimbus 2000 as well?"

"At least my father can afford such a broomstick, Beckwith." Draco sneered at him. "I wouldn't be surprised if your family had to starve for weeks should they buy a Nimbus."

"And what do you know about my family, Malfoy? Instead of buying a broomstick, you should ask your father to buy you some friends."

Draco was about to retort, but then Professor Flitwick appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Nothing going on here, I hope?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it, by the way?"

"A Nimbus 2000, sir. And really, it's all because of Malfoy that I've got it." The three young boys left the scene with bright smiles on their faces, enjoying the look of confusion in Malfoy's pale face. "Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"And you believe that's something to be proud of?"

Both Harry and Ron groaned as they identified the voice. They turned around to see Hermione looking at the package in Harry's hand with palpable distaste.

"I though you weren't speaking to us?" Harry asked.

"Please, keep it that way. It was doing us so much good." Ron added.

Damian winced a little when Hermione left with her nose in the air...

* * *

Damian could hardly believe Halloween was already here, but the smell of baking pumpkin in the morning left no room for discussion. It amazed him just how fast everything was going. He didn't really missed home his home that much, not because he was unthoughtful, but because he was so busy with his homework and hanging out with Harry and Ron that he didn't have time to much else. The classes were constantly getting more interesting due to the fact that the basics were already dominated and now they were starting to experiment with more advanced stuff.

Case in point, today was Charm class and Professor Flitwick announced that they were going to try the Levitating Charm, otherwise known as Wingardium Leviosa. Professor Flitwick divided the class into pairs to practice. Harry was paired with Seamus Finnigan, Damian was paired with Dean Thomas and Ron was paired with Hermione. And for some reason, Damian simply KNEW things were going to get out of hand for Ron and Hermione.

Once Professor Flitwick instructed every student, shouts of 'Wingardium Leviosa!' filled the classroom. Damian was surprised by how difficult the Levitating Charm actually was. He thought he had the wrist movement down, but apparently he didn't, because the feather in front of him twitched instead of defying the laws of gravity.

By near the end of the class, Damian was able to lift his feather two inches and nothing more. Harry wasn't doing any better. Ron, however, gave up on making his feather go up and started to get frustrated. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Damian heard Ron shout for the hundredth time, waving his wand repeatedly.

"You're saying it wrong." Hermione spoke up. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever!" Ron snarled.

And of course, she did. With a swift flick of her wand and a nice 'Wingardium Leviosa', Hermione's feather started to go up and up until it reached the ceiling.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

…

Ron wasn't in a very good mood after the Charm class, and Damian couldn't really blame him. Hermione had, once again, proven that she was the smartest and the most talented witch of the class. Damian knew how much Ron hated to be proven wrong, especially by Hermione. "She's a nightmare, honestly!" Ron started to say as they pushed their way into a crowded corridor once the class was over. "It's no wonder no one can stand her."

As soon as Ron finished his rant, someone pushed past him. Damian quickly recognized Hermione's long and bushy hair, but was shocked to see her face full of tears. She heard what Ron said about her.

"I think she heard you." Harry commented.

Even Ron seemed a tad bit uncomfortable, but shrugged his shoulders nonetheless. "So? She must've noticed she's got no friends."

For the first time since he entered Hogwarts, Damian thought Ron was out of line. It was true that Hermione could be annoying, bossy and even irritating, but saying that she had no friends (whether it was true or not) and that no one could stand her was going too far in Damian's opinion. He himself wondered if he would make friends at the start of the year, and he was lucky enough to meet Harry and Ron. Maybe Hermione wasn't that lucky. "Ron, don't you think that was too harsh? You made her cry."

"It wasn't my fault! And it's not like I did it on purpose, she just happened to be near me."

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it any better. How would you like it if someone told you no one can stand you and that you've got no friends?" It was as if Ron had just experienced an epiphany. When he received no answer, Damian sighed. "I'm going after her."

"Damian, wait-" Harry tried to reach his friend, but before he or Ron could stop him, Damian was already ahead of them and gone.

* * *

Damian was starting to have second thoughts regarding his search for Hermione. He had to skip class so he could find her, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen. He asked the few people he found in the Common Room if they had seen a girl with bushy hair, but he received no helpful answers. Most of the boys laughed and asked him what was a first year student doing out of class. Most girls (all of them in their third year or older) cooed and asked him if Hermione was his girlfriend.

Finally, he overheard Parvati telling Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom. Even though he was happy to know about Hermione's whereabouts, Damian let out a loud groan. The girl's bathroom? Seriously? The girl's bathroom was, undoubtedly, one of the few places Damian would never go on his free will. But this was probably the only chance he had to find Hermione and try to straighten things up.

That was why, during his very first Halloween feast in Hogwarts, Damian found himself approaching the girl's bathroom and praying to Merlin no student, prefect, professor, ghost or caretaker would find him. Otherwise, he could kiss his life at Hogwarts goodbye. Once he made sure no one was watching, Damian quickly entered the bathroom and was immensely relieved to find it empty. Well, almost empty. Sobs and hiccups could be heard inside one of the toilet cabins.

"Hermione?" Damian said as he opened the last cabin door.

"D-Damian! What are you doing here?" Hermione gasped. Damian noticed how puffy and red her eyes were, and from the looks of it, he could tell Hermione had spent a lot of time crying.

"I was worried about you, so I came looking for you. Listen, don't pay attention to what Ron said after Cha-"

Hermione got up the toilet and hugged Damian, who froze on his spot. The only women who had ever hugged him before were his mother and his grandmother. Now, all of the sudden, Hermione had her arms around his neck and her head resting against his chest, sniffling. He had no idea what to do, so he awkwardly hugged her back, making sure to treat her body gently. Damian suddenly remembered he had handkerchief inside his shirt pocket, a present from Diana. Mentally chuckling because he never thought he'd ever use it, Damian took out his handkerchief and offered it to Hermione, who accepted it with a shaky smile and used it to clean her nose.

When Damian believed that Hermione was feeling better, he finally raised his voice. "Hermione, about Ron..." he felt her body tense. "… I told him he was wrong, that he shouldn't have said what he said. But look, the thing is that Ron doesn't hate you. Harry doesn't hate you either, and I certainly don't."

Sniffling, she answered. "I know you three don't hate me, but Ron was... He said that…"

"Ron says lots of things when he's frustrated. It's not easy for him to compete against the rest of his siblings. He has five older brothers, and all of them have set a very high standard. So, when he sees how easy things come to you, I guess he gets a little jealous, but I know him well enough to say that he would never say stuff like that and mean it. At least not to you."

"… Maybe." Hermione conceded. "He's still a little dense when it comes to knowing when to open his mouth, though."

Damian let out a cheesy grin. "Just a little?"

The two of them laughed, and once they calmed down, Hermione regarded Damian with a grateful smile. "Thank you, for everything."

It surprised Damian to see Hermione like that. He had seen Hermione smile a couple of times before, but it was only when she was being congratulated by teachers. This time, her smile was completely different. "Don't mention it. Now, how about we go back to the feast? I'm starving."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "The feast!" she exclaimed as she rushed out of the cabinet. She furiously started cleaning her face with water.

"Hey, don't worry. The feast isn't going anywhere." Damian said.

"No! I'm not going to spend my very first Halloween feast in the bathroom! It's supposed to be really-"

But then, Damian shushed Hermione. For some reason, he could hear footsteps coming their way, and not the ones someone hears from a human being. They were massive. With the giant footsteps came a deep growl, and Damian's face went as white as a paper sheet when he saw the shadow of the monster that appeared out of nowhere.

And Hermione wasn't fairing much better than him. "I-Is that a…"

A troll. An enormous troll was inside the girl's bathroom. And people wondered why boys were so scared of going into the girl's bathroom.

Instinct took over Damian's body. Without thinking, he grabbed Hermione's wrist and ran to the corner of the bathroom, hoping to get as far away as possible from the ugly beast. The troll noticed the two kids and started to make strange, yet intimidating noises as he swung his club left and right, smashing several toilets in the process.

Damian had no idea what to do. There was no way he could defeat a troll by himself. He knew nothing about them, and he didn't have a spell that could hurt or even stun an adult troll. Even if Hermione knew one, she was paralyzed in fear and looked as if she was seconds away from fainting. Maybe he could get past the troll and ask for help if he ran really fast, but that meant leaving Hermione alone.

"Oi, pea-brain!"

Damian and Hermione saw Harry and Ron entering the bathroom, shouting at the troll and throwing metal pipes at him. Damian had no time to ask himself what were his friends doing there, for a voice inside his head assured him that his chances of surviving had just increased now that Harry and Ron where there with him. The school staff probably knew about the troll, and if that was the case, then help was on its way. If Damian and his friends could hold the troll off until the teachers' arrive, then maybe they would live to see another day.

Not knowing what else to do, Damian pulled Hermione over to one side and started throwing whatever he could find lying on the floor at the troll, like metal pipes and pieces of wood. The troll went mad and attempted to charge against Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry did the bravest and stupidest thing he had ever done in all of his short life. He climbed to the back of the troll and managed to fasten his arms around its neck. The troll howled in pain when Harry's wand went straight into his right nostril and started searching for the boy behind his back. After many failed attempts, the troll finally caught Harry with his left hand. "Ron, do something!" Damian shouted as he feared for Harry's life, and rightfully so.

With sweaty hands and gulping, Ron waved his wand and tried the first spell he could think of. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Whether it was out of luck or not, it didn't matter. The troll's club was suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high up in the air and dropped inches away from its owner's foot. The beast looked astonished, or as astonished as a troll could be. Damian decided it was his time to contribute. He noticed the water that was coming out of the smashed toilets and remembered a spell he tried on his brother Edmund once: The Trip Jinx.

While the Jinx itself was fairly simple, Damian remembered reading a book where it said it was a lot easier to perform when the target was standing on slippery surface, or in this case, water. If that was true, then this was Damian's only chance. He raised his wand and pointed at the troll's legs. "Moviatur!" (1)

The effect was almost instantaneous. The troll started to move his legs in a funny way until he fell on his back. His skull kissed the watery floor very hard, with a THUD noise that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what they had done. Hermione was the first to recover her voice. "Is it… dead?"

"I doubt it." Harry responded "I think it's just been knocked out."

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. Professor McGonagall had entered the bathroom, followed closely by Snape and Quirrell, who whimpered at the sight of the unconscious troll. Damian had never seen Professor McGonagall so angry before. "You three… What on Earth were you thinking of? Why aren't you in your dormitories?"

Damian suddenly remembered he was holding his wand. Professor McGonagall was now looking at him with a look of ire. "I was… Erh, I mean… We were just…"

"Beckwith, if you don't explain to me what was going through your head…"

"Please, Professor McGonagall… they were looking for me. I went looking for the troll."

"Miss Granger!"

The three boys looked back at Hermione, unable to comprehend what was just happening. Was Hermione Granger… telling a downright lie to a teacher? In that moment, Damian understood the weirdest things happened inside the girl's bathroom, and he would never step a foot inside of it ever again if he could help it.

"I went looking for the troll because I… I thought I could deal with it on my own since I've read all about them. If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Ron took away its club and Damian finished it. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry, Damian and Ron merely stood there, trying to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well, in that case... Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this." Professor McGonagall said. "I'm very, very disappointed with you. Now, if you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their respective Houses."

The Four Gryffindors silently made their way to the exit, but before they left, Professor McGonagall spoke one last time.

"While I still believe it you were lucky, not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this."

In other occasion, Damian would've argued that saving a fellow housemate probably deserved a lot more than just five points, but right now he was just happy he was alive. None of them made a single sound as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. They said the password entered the Common Room. After what they went through, they didn't feel like eating, not even Ron (2). They just wanted to lie on their beds and call it a day. Before parting ways, Hermione said a quick 'Thanks' and hurried off to the girl's dormitory.

One good thing came out of that day, though. Hermione was now their friend. After all, there were some things in life you can't share without ending up liking each other, and Damian was pretty sure knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll was one of them.

* * *

… Hello, anyone there?

Sorry for keeping you all waiting. It's been a while since I last updated this story. I guess life happens sometimes. For now, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and expect many more to come.

Also, if you're interested in becoming a beta-reader for this story, PM me and we'll discuss things.

Please Review, Follow and/or Like if you enjoy how the story is going.

Author's note 1: This is not the actual incantation. I know the spell exists (it has been used before in the books), but its true name is not specified. I came up with the word 'Moviatur' after learning the word 'Moveatur', which is Latin for 'make fall'. If I can't find the proper incantation, I will create it myself.

Author's note 2: I'm just putting this out there because we've all seen the movies/read the books and we all know how much Ron likes to eat. In the original scene from the book, they do attend the feast in the Common Room, but I was too tired to continue writing.


	5. Chapter 5

**FOURTH WAND**

 **CHAPTER 5: THE QUIDDITCH GAME**

(Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter belongs to J.K.R. I do own my OC's, however)

* * *

Damian could hardly believe November was already knocking on the door. Every morning, the ground was covered in frost, and the lake was starting to freeze. Students now had to wear warm clothes while going outside unless they wanted to catch a cold, and some students like Damian himself wore gloves even when he was taking notes while attending classes. The youngest of the Beckwith brothers couldn't handle the cold very well, and that was putting it lightly.

With the merciless weather also came the Quidditch season, which soon became the only thing students talked about. Damian was particularly excited about it because he could finally see Harry, the most recent addition to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, in action. If he were to be honest with himself, Damian was somewhat jealous of his friend. During their first year in Hogwarts, students weren't allowed to participate in games of Quidditch or even try out for their House team. Second-year students had the chance to prove themselves if they presented explicit permission from their parents or guardians, but they almost never succeeded. Damian didn't care; next year he would try to get into the squad one way or another, but for now, all he could do was to wait.

The four wizards were currently making their way to the castle once their classes had reached an end. Since they were out in the snow, Hermione conjured a small blue flame inside a jam jarl that could be carried around to keep their bodies warm. Once they were near the entrance, Harry knelt down in order to tie his shoelaces and left the copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ he was holding on the ground.

"What's that you got there, Potter?"

Everyone turned around to see Snape standing behind them, looking as nasty and unfriendly as always. He was pointing at Harry's book, which he lifted from the ground.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Five points from Gryffindor."

As Snape walked away, Damian couldn't help but notice how awkward the Potions Master moved. He seemed to be dragging one of his legs around, as if he couldn't put much weight on it.

"I bet he just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily.

"Never mind that. Did you see how Snape was limping? He looked like he was in a lot of pain," Damian said.

Ron sneered. "Serves him right. Wouldn't it be brilliant if that injured leg prevented him from teaching us for the rest of the year?"

"And who would replace him, then?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's not like we have a room full of substitute teachers just waiting for their turn to conduct classes. From what I've heard, it's hard to come across a wizard who's a Potion Master and is willing to teach young students,"

"How about you, Hermione?" Damian asked with a cheeky grin on his face. "I bet you could replace Snape if you truly wanted to. Who knows? With your help, you could maybe even make Harry brew a decent potion for once,"

"Oi!" Harry protested, his cheeks turning slightly red despite the cold atmosphere. Damian and Ron snickered.

Hermione, however, gave Damian an amused look. "Perhaps so, but I doubt you could brew a decent potion even with my help. Or have you forgotten what happened during our last Potion class? You managed to melt your cauldron within the first ten minutes,"

It was Damian's turn to blush in embarrassment. "I'm telling you, it was a setup! I followed every single instruction Snape gave us and that stupid cauldron melted anyway! He gave me a faulty one on purpose, I know he did!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, and in the end, Damian couldn't help but crack a smile. The feeling of being able to lighten up the mood made him forget about the atrocious results of the last Potion class… even if it cost ten points from Gryffindor and a perfectly good cauldron.

* * *

|An hour later|

"Harry, are you alright?" Damian asked his friend. They were all hanging out in the Common Room, or at least most of them were. Ron had given up on his Transfiguration essay and was now using his wand to play with Scabbers. Hermione was going over her Herbology assignment for the third time, making sure everything she wrote down was correct. As for Damian, he had just finished sending a letter to his parents when he noticed the somewhat agitated look on Harry's face. "You seem a bit… odd,"

"… I really want to get my book back," Harry admitted. His first game of Quidditch was tomorrow morning and the only thing that would take his mind off his nerves was, ironically enough, reading about Quidditch. "The one that Snape took away from me earlier on,"

"Then why don't you ask him if he can give it back?" Damian asked innocently, only to receive an incredulous stare from Harry.

"Do you really think he'll just give it back? To me of all people?"

Damian felt a bit stupid. What were the chances of Snape giving Harry his book back? He might as well ask him to return those five points he took away from Gryffindor while he was at it because that would never happen. "Then, how about I go ask Snape? My chances of getting the book back are bigger than yours, even if they both are close to zero. Besides, with some luck, maybe I'll run into McGonagall and she'll ask Snape on my behalf."

After Harry thanked him, Damian made his way to the staffroom, the most likely place to find Snape along with the dungeons. In case Snape refused to hand over the book, Damian supposed he could go to the library and ask for another copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. However, the staffroom was closer than the library, so he might as well give it a shot before trying anything else.

Once he got to the staffroom, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door three times. Damian held his breath as he waited for someone to answer, but when no one did, he gently opened the door and slowly entered the room. He searched for the copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ from where he was standing, but instead, what he saw made his body go stiff and his eyes to go wide.

"Blasted thing. How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Snape cursed as Filch removed some bandages from his leg, revealing a horrible gash. Damian had never seen an injury that bad in his life, which was understandable given his young age.

The sight of blood unnerved him. It was so unexpected he didn't know how to react. When he realized he had to leave, it was already too late. Snape had detected him.

"BECKWITH!" Snape roared as he stood up, immediately dropping his robes to hide his injured leg. His face was twisting in pain and fury.

"S-Sir… I was just wondering… Can I have Harry's book back, please?" Damian squeaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"GET OUT! OUT!"

With a wave of his wand, Snape closed the door and violently pushed Damian out of the room. The young wizard landed on his lower back and struggled to get up as his legs were weak. Fearful of what Snape might do to him, Damian ran away.

Once he got to the Common Room, Harry was the first to spot him. "How did it go?" Harry asked before he noticed how pale and sweaty Damian was. "What's wrong? Did Snape do something to you?"

Damian then proceeded to tell his friend what he saw in the staffroom.

"… He also said something about keeping his eyes on all three heads at once... Now that I think of it, when Malfoy challenged Harry and Ron to a duel at midnight, didn't you encounter a giant dog with three heads?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look of realization, one that Damian recognized. "The night when Draco tried to trick us, we accidentally ended up in a room with a giant three-headed dog in it. That's got to be what he's talking about…" Harry said. "… That's it! That where his injured leg comes from! That giant dog must've attacked Snape during Halloween!"

"Hang on, Harry. Why would Snape willingly take on a giant three-headed dog? I mean, what does he gain by that? He must have some sort of reason, right?" Damian asked.

Ron's eyes went wide. "Hermione, you saw that dog guarding a trap door, didn't you? He must be after whatever that bloody beast is guarding! And he hasn't gone to the hospital wing to treat his leg because he doesn't want anyone to know what he's been up to!"

"No… He wouldn't," Hermione said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe. There has to be another explanation."

If there was indeed another explanation, it wasn't an easy one to come up with. So far, every piece of information available lead to Snape being the culprit, or at the very least involved in the mystery. The fact that he seemed to despise Harry with a passion didn't help his case, either.

* * *

"You've got to eat some breakfast," Hermione pleaded.

Harry shook his head. "I don't want anything,"

"Just a bit of toast,"

"I'm not hungry."

Damian sighed. In about an hour, Harry would be stepping into the Quidditch pitch and playing the game for the very first time in his life. The boy looked like he was ill, and he probably felt ill too.

He could understand Harry not wanting to eat anything because of the pressure he was feeling, but keeping his stomach empty wasn't going to do him any favors. Knowing what had to be done, Damian got up from his seat, approached his friend, and without asking for permission of any sort, dumped half of his food on Harry's plate.

Harry stared at him wide-eyed. "I said I don't want any-"

"I know what you said," Damian cut him off. "You have to eat something, Harry. It's for your own good. Trust me on this one, will you?"

Ron nodded in agreement. "Damian's right, Harry. When my brother Charlie first played for Gryffindor, he didn't have any breakfast before the game. He ended up thro… Erh, he ended up getting sick and his team lost badly. He was a Seeker just like you, so you might want to avoid doing the same mistake he did."

Seeing no other alternatives, Harry picked up his fork and started eating. The food didn't taste so well to him, but at least he wasn't going to step into the Quidditch pitch with an empty stomach. Both Ron and Damian nodded to themselves in satisfaction. This was going to be Harry's first Quidditch game ever and they wanted to see him succeed.

Once Damian got back to his seat, Hermione leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear. "Do you think Harry's going to be okay?"

"I reckon he will. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" Damian replied. "If anything, I'm jealous of him,"

"Jealous?"

Damian nodded. "Yeah. I wish I could play for Gryffindor starting from today. Guess I'll just have to wait until next year,"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You know, even if second-years are allowed to participate in the try-outs, they rarely if ever make it into the team,"

"Yeah, and what of it? You don't think I can do it?"

"I never said that, Damian,"

"So you do believe I can do it, then,"

"I never said that either,"

"It's impossible to win against you, you know that?"

The bushy-haired witch shrugged her shoulders. "I might have heard that once or twice before,"

|11:00 A.M.|

The atmosphere surrounding the Quidditch was amazing and full of life. Damian walked alongside Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, and Seamus and managed to find a spot in the top row where they could watch the game and pay special attention to Harry. All of them wore red and golden clothes to represent Gryffindor and show their support while the Slytherin students did the same.

"This is amazing," Damian told his friends as he observed the pitch. "It's like we're watching Liverpool playing Quidditch!"

Philip Beckwith, Damian's father, was a Muggleborn, and while he belonged to the magical world, he was still a big fan of Liverpool. He once took Damian and his brother Edmund to Anfield where they watched a football game against Everton. The Reds scored three goals and won the game, receiving a standing ovation from the supporters who chanted their anthem: "You'll Never Walk Alone". It was an unforgettable night for Damian, not only because of the game, but also because it was the only place where his father allowed him to say nasty words under the condition that he never ever used them at home.

"Liverpool? More like West Ham," Dean retorted.

"What's Liverpool and West Ham?" Ron asked, having never heard of football before.

While Dean explained to Ron the rules of the game, the players walked onto the field wearing red robes. Harry was fairly easy to spot as he was the shortest member of the team. Madam Hooch, the referee of the match, gave the instructions and ordered Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint, team captains of Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively, to shake hands before the game started.

The two teams raised high into the air and, once Madam Hooch made sure everything was in order, she gave a loud blast on her whistle, signaling the start of the game. Lee began to comment on the game.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. What an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too…"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded him.

"Sorry, Professor. Anyways, she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve. Back to Johnson and… No, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes. Flint flying like an eagle up there, he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle. That's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and… Ouch! That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger. Quaffle taken by the Slytherins, that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't really tell which. Nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes…"

The game went on for quite a while, with Gryffindor holding a 50-30 advantage over Slytherin. Harry hadn't had much protagonism so far as he was instructed by Wood to stay out of trouble and keep searching for the Snitch, which was exactly what he did.

Even Hagrid came to join the fun. Damian, Ron, and Hermione had to squeeze together to give the half-giant enough space to sit.

There was a moment were Harry apparently had caught sight of the Snitch and chased after it, but he was pushed to the side by Marcus Flint. The Boy-Who-Lived nearly crashed against one of the towers but managed to steer away before that could happen. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, reprimanded Flint for his violent behavior and ordered a free shot in Gryffindor's favor. Katie Bell scored and the crowd cheered, but now, the Snitch was nowhere to be seen.

"How come Flint hasn't been sent off?" Damian protested. "Harry could've been injured really badly!"

"Damian's right. They outta change the rules," Hagrid said as he used his binoculars to see the game more clearly. "At least Harry's not hurt. He should catch the Snitch anytime so… Now, what's he doing?"

Damian grabbed a pair of binoculars and focused his gaze on Harry. For some reason, his friend was struggling to fly and was instead trying his hardest not to fall from his broom, as if he was riding a mechanical bull instead. It was like watching Neville trying to fly instead of Harry, which made no sense whatsoever as Harry was not only a talented rider but was also using a brand-new Nimbus 2000.

Soon, everyone was pointing at Harry, whose broom had become even more unstable than before, making wild turns and zigzagging through the air. "What did Flint do to his broom?" Damian asked as he handed Hermione the binoculars. "He must've jinxed it or something!"

"Can't be it. Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful dark magic, and that's far beyond what any student can do," Hagrid replied, his voice starting to shake.

Damian felt someone tugging his sleeve. It was Hermione. "Look at Snape! Look at what he's doing!" she exclaimed as he gave him the binoculars back, which he then used to stare at the row where the professors were located.

Once he saw the Potions Master, Damian noticed something terribly odd. While the others were pointing at Harry and whispering to one another, Snape seemed to be muttering something to himself, glaring intensely at Harry. "It's as if… It's as if Snape is encouraging Harry to fall or something,"

"He's not encouraging Harry to fall, he's _making_ him fall!" Hermione shrieked as she got up.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I'm going to stop Snape! Leave it to me!"

And before either Damian or Ron could reach her, the young witch was already on her way. Damian wanted to follow her, but he simply couldn't stop staring at Harry. The Weasley twins realized something was going on and tried to help Harry, but every single time they got close to him, Harry's broom would either fly higher or get away from them. Marcus Flint managed to score three times before Madam Hooch realized there was something wrong with Harry and stopping the game.

SWOOOSH

Damian gasped in horror as the wild broom had given a sudden jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with his two hands.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron whispered desperately.

And then, it all stopped. Harry's broom became… tame, for lack of a better word. He climbed back up and, once he made sure his broom was no longer vibrating, the game resumed.

Whether by destiny or plain luck, the Snitch happened to fly really close to Harry, who took off and started chasing after it. Slytherin's Seeker also caught sight of the Snitch and went after it as well, but Harry's Nimbus 2000 gave him a clear advantage.

Harry raised his hand as the Snitch came closer and closer to him. He was flying just barely above the ground. His fingertips were about to touch the wings of the small golden ball…

… Damian blinked. One second ago Harry was about to grab the Snitch, and now all of a sudden he was on all fours gagging. 'I knew it! I knew I should've given him more breakfast this morning! He can't handle the pressure!'

He was dead wrong. Instead of any disgusting body fluids, what came out of Harry's mouth was the Snitch, which he managed to catch just in time before it went away.

Upon seeing this, Madam Hooch blew her whistle for the last time. "The Snitch has been caught! Gryffindor wins the game!"

* * *

After celebrating Gryffindor's victory against Slytherin in the Common Room ("Honestly, Harry, the way you caught that Snitch was bloody brilliant." Fred and George both told him), Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Damian made their way to Hagrid's hut. They decided to tell him about they had found out in the last days, including how Snape had deliberately been messing with Harry's Nimbus during the game.

"Rubbish. Absolute rubbish," Hagrid proclaimed as he shook his head in denial. "Yeh can't just blame Snape because yeh don't happen te' like 'im. He's a professor, he would never hurt a student,"

"But we saw him, Hagrid. He was making eye contact with Harry and he never blinked, not even once. He was muttering the curse so that no one could hear him. Those are all indicators of a jinx, I've read all about them!" Hermione shot back.

Damian nodded in agreement. He had no idea how a jinx worked, but if Hermione was so sure of it, then he would take her word for it. It wasn't as if Hermione had been wrong about a lot of things in the past. "Besides, Snape has always had it out for Harry. The only one who hates him just as much is Malfoy, and I doubt a first-year student can pull off something like that,"

"Malfoy definitely didn't do it," Ron said with much conviction. "Dad works at the Ministry of Magic and he's seen stuff like this happen before. It's always done by a dark wizard or witch. Malfoy's foul alright, but there's no way he could've jinxed Harry's broom… He definitely would if he could, though."

Harry didn't have much trouble agreeing with that last statement.

"Which means that Snape's guilty," Damian concluded.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid said, clearly irritated by the subject and the kids' persistence. "I dunno' why Harry's broom acted the way it did, but it don't have anything to do with Snape. Next thing yer gonna tell me is that Snape was the one who set the troll free durin' Halloween. I swear, yeh four come up with the wildest ideas I've ever heard,"

While Hagrid prepared some tea, Damian and the others shared a look. Was it wise to share their suspicions with Hagrid? He was their friend, or at least they were on friendly terms. However, he was also adamant on the idea that Snape had done nothing wrong, and something was telling Damian testing the patience of someone the size of Hagrid wasn't a very bright idea. He decided not to speak any further, but of course, Harry had other things in mind.

"We found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he asked.

"Fluffy?" Damian nearly spat out the tea he was drinking. He couldn't imagine a giant three-headed dog being called 'Fluffy'.

"Aye, he's mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub around las' year or so. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…No, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is,"

"But Snape's trying to steal it," Hermione tried to reason. After witnessing Snape cursing Harry's broom, giving him the benefit of the doubt was no longer an option for her. "And unless we do something about it, he's gonna end up killing Harry!"

"That's nonsense, that is!" Hagrid said hotly, causing Damian to jump on his seat. "Now, listen to me, all four of yeh. Yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. Do yerselves a favor and forget that dog an' what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel. Students have no business-"

"Nicolas Flamel?" Ron asked. "Who's that bloke?"

Hagrid looked genuinely furious with himself.

Just like the old Muggle saying: "You are the owner of your silence and the slave of your words"

* * *

Alright, let me explain:

The reason why I haven't uploaded anything in… decades, is because I was very busy with my other stories and because I truly and honestly wasn't inspired. But a few days ago, I suddenly found myself interested again, and so I decided to write this chapter. It sounds way too simple, and that's because it is. Don't ask why.

Also, I noticed that readers kept following this story despite not being updated in quite some time. That motivated me to keep going, and hopefully, I can get this story back on track.

Sorry for making such a short chapter, or at least short by my standards. I'm well aware that most of you were expecting a longer one. Damian's presence here isn't quite story-changing, but I'll make sure to give him more protagonism in the next chapter. This isn't the best chapter I've ever written, not by a long shot, but at least this will motivate me to bring an entertaining, more detailed next upload.

If someone wants to become a Beta-Reader, send me a PM and we'll talk about it.

Don't forget to Review, Favorite & Follow

Peace!


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